The third guy does not come to join me in the wake of this dawn. Pink. Age skis through a white turf. Sulking in self, help me. The world is oblivious, the sentences are short and perspective skewed. Friday, 5 March 2010, 2:49 AM. Magic from the crystal heavens pour down onto my hands. Greedily I set out to weave an outlook not marred by self. In itself, a Contradiction. Fool's Paradise.
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