Hirona woke up. She had a decision. Her eyes could either open and brave a day in her new world, or roll back in her head and close to the lullaby of hopelessness
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I read about this poet in the 30's who sent copies of his work to hundreds of random people--this is before the days of junk mail, and he got so many angry letters in reply, but there was nothing they could do. It was like the negros singing in the 60's--it wasn't illegal, it wasn't harming anyone, they have the option to "NOT LISTEN IF THEY DON"T WANT TO".
wow thats kind of interesting. hm.. well this story interests me in a freaky kind of way. maybe i'll just read it everyday.. who knows it may turn out great.
although i'm very confused as to your motives for adding random people to your friends list (however i have a few theories), you write with great excellence, i must say.
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Kthnxbye.
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