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,,,,,,,,,, Morning Quiet ,,,,,,,,,,
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%$=-,,,,,, I Sit In My Cubicle In The Work Mill ,,,,,,-=$%
#%$=-,,,,, And Feel Somewhat At Peace - I'Ve ,,,,,-=$%#
@#%$=-,,,, Entered A Bright Anomaly. Morning ,,,,-=$%#@
@@#%$=-,,, Liminality. ,,,-=$%#@@
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#%$=-,,,,, No One Is Here. There'S Dust In The ,,,,,-=$%#
%$=-,,,,,, Air. A Strong Light Shines Through The ,,,,,,-=$%
$=-,,,,,,, Windows, And Turns The Office Into ,,,,,,,-=$
=-,,,,,,,, Something New. I Pretend It'S The Sun. ,,,,,,,,-=
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,,,,,,,,,, I Speak With The Plants In My Head. ,,,,,,,,,,
-,,,,,,,,, They Are Getting Too Much Water, Or The ,,,,,,,,,-
=-,,,,,,,, Water They Get Is Of Dubious Quality. ,,,,,,,,-=
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