The ground, frozen with past vitality. A desert screaming and begging for light, but only given the infinite night.
A masquerade of thoughts converging on a single focal point, a catalyst of events that has yet to be discovered, and like a door with rusty hinges, squawking not with annoyance, but similar to that of angels singing a beautiful song that excites the mind.
An...
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pheny:
i thought einstein was an alien robot
