i enjoy the subtle breezes that toss my afro into my mouth and remind me of the beachtown whose memories make me cry. history takes it's place; the oh so familiar textbook story of war and industry pries it's maintanence into the cracks of ones social unsettling. the struggle is strong and becomes less painful every day, and after all, im still
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I fumble along as best I can, now good, now bad, and I hope generally fair-to-middling. In certain more important details I shall make mistakes, also. But that is something that will not be my fault. My friend never explained anything to me. He thought, perhaps, that I was like himself. But I, alas, do not know how to see sheep through the walls of
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I didn't know who Ben Lee was, but he was the happiest musician I've ever seen. He said, "I love music, guys... I mean it's great... we're all here,... music lovers!! Loving music!" in a neat Australian accent. During his last song, "We're all in this together," he came out into the crowd and danced around. He almost fell off of the balcony thing
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If I am alive this time next year, will I have arrived in time to share? Mine is about as good this far. I'm still applied to what you are. And I am joining all my thoughts to you. And I'm preparing every part for you.