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Nov 23, 2024
The wind writes a name on the clouds and sun wipes out the letters. This game continues daily. coming into life after every death.
Exhausted I want to believe and make up my mind to go for a new birth.
The resentment has accumulated all the life against the futility of winning a race. In the end you reach no where.
A void impossible to fill. The years monitored, lay waste something to die.
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