inspiration is a hard thing to find, thoughts are not something created, throughout life streets will wind, my creative conscious, somewhat sedated struggling on is the way i know, drifting from one day to the next, i feel it, my mind will blow, on my shoulders, its no longer fixed without my ability to foresee, i would be in trouble so often, trouble of a mental capacity, will it end, ever, when?
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1/17/2021 6:19:47 PM # 1.0.0.396