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There once was a girl who was fearful, It left her day and night tearful. With all her might, she looked to the light. And now she knows what she’s here for.
Why is it that people are so afraid of change? Do they actually find a sense of comfort in the prosaic and predictable? How is that a way to live? Is it even a way to live?
My Identity   The one thing I can’t live without is my identity. It tells me who I am and where I go.
ROSES are dead. VIOLETS are dead. EVERYTHING is dead. DEAD dead dead.
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