i feel like writing.
about love, about life.
mainly about life.
which is what we are about every single day.
or was that love?
the word is the same, the tear is the one, the pain is
all-encompassing. or not. we choose.
the same. theoretically.
completely different, day-to-day-to-day.
i love. i love. i love. and i live too.
could it be more cliché????
i don't really care. i am alive.
and kicking.
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