I would fight you, the way no one has ever fought you. my speed would match yours, my reactions would be perfect. The way I would turn and slide and slip; you'd think I were a demon.
I would fight you; I would crush you.
I would. I would. I would.
What am I doing? Somewhere along the line, I lost my way.
I figure that practice makes perfect. I feel like the more you attempt to do something, the more tries you give, then eventually you'll reach an acceptable level, nothing grand, but acceptable.
tonight's homily was reflecting on Jesus' ascension into heaven and how everyone's still standing around waiting until they're reminded that they must continue on
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