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she's in a place without war and hate and misery. we're still here. the least we can do is try to comfort the one who hit her as best we can, and hug everyone who cries. there's little more you can do but to remember. that is a great fear of many, not being remembered. it's not dying that scares me, it's not being thought of. of dissappearing. let'
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(NOT!) I hope we figure this out, don't you?
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