Sometimes rejection is even a kind of victory.
My guru is gone and I am aggrieved. Oh, the baros of it all.
We are desperate to leave our mark, something that won’t die like we must. Replication is an escape from oblivion.
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, / Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, / Stand
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