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Spark by irreplacable spark

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Oct
13th
Mon
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tres drole

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For a long time I have been walking and seeing
nothing. Now I find this song and it cheers me.
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As for your pope of whom you speak, he must be mad to speak of giving away countries
that do not belong to him. As for my faith, I will not change it.
Your own God, as you tell me, was put to death by the very men
He created. But my God still looks down on His children.
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When it comes time to die, be not like those whose hearts are
filled with the fear of death, so when their time comes they weep
and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in
a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.
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The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
I’ve promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep
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jpeg

I’m so scared that I’m going to forget your face. I wake up in the morning losing a pixel every time. You used to drench my every moment, but as time passes I find other menial things penetrating my thoughts of you. I’m so scared that one day it will be in reverse and that instead of you being my thoughts, you will just be a background figure I refer to during an idle minute. I’ve already lost the crinkles around your eyes when you smile. To me you’re like the lingering smell after you walk through a beautiful garden and every day that passes while you are away, is a step I take further from the garden making every breath less endearing. I miss you like hell, you know? Not the good type of hell, where it’s an adrenaline rush with every heartbeat. No, it’s the type of hell that grips your heart and makes it impossible to breathe.

Jul
20th
Sun
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“When I was alive, I believed—as you do—that time was at least as real and solid as myself, and probably more so. I said ‘one o’clock’ as though I could see it, and ‘Monday’ as though I could find it on the map; and I let myself be hurried along from minute to minute, day to day, year to year, as though I were actually moving from one place to another. Like everyone else, I lived in a house bricked up with seconds and minutes, weekends and New Year’s Days, and I never went outside until I died, because there was no other door. Now I know that I could have walked through the walls.”

The Skull, from The Last Unicorn