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@#§£†;=-,, ,,-=;†£§#@
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@#§£†;=-,, ££ ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, ££ ££ ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, £ £ ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, ££ ££ ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, ££ ,,-=;†£§#@
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@#§£†;=-,, # #===========# # ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, ## # # # # fey bells # # # ## # ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, # #===========# # ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, envelop me in noise... a sandstorm of ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, sound... and sure enough, between the ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, grains there are calls from other ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, worlds - ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, distant wailing sirens, coming closer ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, but staying out of reach... telling me ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, that something is happening, perfuming ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, me with someone elses excitement ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, the phone ringing, a certain phone from ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, a job long lost, urging for someone to ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, pick up ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, and at times, when i'm almost drowning ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, in this metaphorical sand, breathing ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, it, the veil is next to breached... i ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, hear flutes, sines, repeating themes ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, like were they calls from rubbery ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, birds... deafeningly loud! ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, but like a mirage, constantly ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, evaporating and reforming. ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, and not really touching my eardrums. ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, ,,-=;†£§#@
#@#§£†;=-, ,-=;†£§#@#
@#§£†;=-,, ,,-=;†£§#@
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#@#§£†;=-, ,-=;†£§#@#