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on a more intimate note

where i spill my guts a little too much

27 January
"Smells of night, earth, and salt air were cooling my temples. The wonderous peace of that sleeping summer flowed through me like a tide. Then, in the dark hour before dawn, sirens blasted. They were announcing departures for a world that now and forever meant nothing to me....
....I had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate."