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All it takes is a moment, for that to reveal, what is hidden from lucubrations. And yet the road is steep, paved with tragedies, cemented by hope. And yet the flowers bloom, in the times of spring; balancing butterflies on their petals, so they can meet again. And yet it must be lived through, absurd as it may seem, the journey. And yet it reveals, when it does, all it takes is a moment.


Try as you may, to keep the bubble, of your frail existence, burst it will. Cosmeticize to your heart’s content, miseries and trophies of a life lived, on terms made by your growing self, your indepen

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