Abstract
reverie
Everyone dance to their own beat.– ʞɐ He stared out of the window as the weather turned still dry with a bit of sunshine secretly
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What we seek has always been in front of us; well, mostly.
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Everyone dance to their own beat.– ʞɐ He stared out of the window as the weather turned still dry with a bit of sunshine secretly
Pain, an interim of our consciousness, a stigma of yesterdays’s reminders and tomorrow’s uncertainty. What is this pain, anyway? The relation of toe to the