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I can subsist, even in here. I can move, but that's not the question. I can feel, I can hear, and I can know, but even with all the pieces together, I end up here now with this. It enjoys the color of my self and the smell of my suffering and even I occasionally agree that it's just a treat, however sick or sad it might be. Go get lost in some spaces, go get rings on your trunk, go on and "love some more"..
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