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■ The oak
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early interference
I sit here alone bored by my platitude and how everything i do alwas ends up the same same inconfidence how I seem to understand always choose to forget nevertheless I wonder why I alwas come to regret and evening befalls me as I behead my thoughts my ever-changing spirituality seems loneliness comes at a cost winds blow, above me stars newly born while trying not to pay attention I feel the scent of her sweet thought dripping down my bare chest, my necklace reaching towards it, I find there's nothing left
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