How can one describe such a night? No comfort in fatigue here in this void. Only psuedo-insanity to deliver me. No remnants of beauty resounding from the fall. Only the spectures of all the times I've failed to see me through to the end of this. Took a glide on the wind this morning. Through the dew and the desolate alike. Akin to every single
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I didn't know gibberish post grew on plants, it was a wawa, BALLs in YO FACE.
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