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¨&¨&¨&&&&& When I Was In Eight Grade I Decided I ¨&&&¨¨¨&¨&
&&&&&&¨¨¨¨ Was Dead. My Spirit Had Left My Body, ¨&¨¨&¨¨&&&
¨¨¨¨¨¨&¨¨¨ Never To Return. ¨&&¨&&¨&¨¨
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¨¨¨¨¨¨&¨&¨ I Remember Sitting In My Parents Car On ¨&&&¨&&¨¨&
&¨¨¨¨¨&&&& A Cloudy, Watery Day, Getting A Ride &&¨¨&&¨&¨&
¨&¨¨¨¨&¨¨¨ Somewhere. It Felt Like I Had Solved &¨&¨&¨&&&&
&&&¨¨¨&&¨¨ Some Great Puzzle. I'Ve Solved No &&&&&&&¨¨¨
&¨¨&¨¨&¨&¨ Puzzles Since Then. ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨&¨¨
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&¨&&¨&&¨¨¨ Instead, I'Ve Been Mindlessly Piloting &&¨¨¨¨¨&¨&
¨&&¨&&¨&¨¨ This Body Around. I Still Give It Life, &¨&¨¨¨¨&&&
&&¨&&¨&&&¨ Somehow. Like A Golem, And I Try Not To &&&&¨¨¨&¨¨
&¨&&¨&&¨¨& Care Too Much, But I Do. It'S A &¨¨¨&¨¨&&¨
&&&¨&&¨&¨& Contaminated Golem, This One. Purity &&¨¨&&¨&¨&
¨¨¨&&¨&&&& Clouded By My Echo. Afterglow Of My &¨&¨&¨&&&&
&¨¨&¨&&¨¨¨ Spirit. &&&&&&&¨¨¨
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