i hate that everything is changing right now, and clearly little old me can't stop time for happening so all i can do about it is sit on lili's couch and cry
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Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derision outside my window: Play louder. You will not succeed. I am bound more to my sentences the more you batter at me to follow you. And the wind, as before, fingers perfectly its derisive music.