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Tell me again why i'm still here. The choice is simply evolution. Either way, my thin skin makes it a nesscessity to throw on three layers. In every way, I'm responding to this winter: I'm tensing on snowflakes, I'm stumbling over my history. I've never felt like this before. Never. I'm singing for the first time under just one patch of stars. Speaking honestly comes naturally after enough champagne.
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this is beautiful, it just meanders along gently in its flow of ideas like your mind does in those odd calm, content reflective moments that you get now and then.