Thought courses as the river, swift, full, fluid, and flowing. Take a sturdy net and catch these elusive broken memories then sew them into the comforting quilt of familiarity. Is there destiny in this modern world? Everything is analyzed magic is nothing but a cheap illusion in the minds of the mob. Dare to believe in something different. Truth, lie, fantasy, who can know?
A heart yearning for more, beyond the veil, a secret world the world refuses to acknowledge. Dream a dream... However, it would seem dreams live only on the sliver screen. Who can know?
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