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We are surrounded by death. But we don’t read it as any kind of sign. We shrug our shoulders. We cry. We wonder Why Why Why. We are surrounded by dreams, our own beings, imploring us to listen, to pay attention to our selves. But we don’t listen. We read the paper, we watch the game, we watch some stupid show and it leaves us lame. And we limp through life, we never run. We circle and die before we’ve ever even begun.

 

 

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