Musings
I wrote these and left them here
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She sang across the heavens.
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We met late one night, and I thought I could take you home, maybe show you my childhood bedroom.
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In my sleep, I dream. In that dream, I create. I Weave my dreamworld for everyone, and hope that they will come. I work on it my entire life, honing disjointed sections and inserting intricacies. Here I saw a tree, and upon that tree a leaf that did not match the others. I replaced it…