Thoughts, droughts, draughts, naught but ...A Poem by Zatoichi
Twisted into itself, the mind has nowhere to go and words are just a collection of letters and letters are just symbols and symbols mean nothing without an encryption key.
It is disconcerting to be so removed from one's own mind; to see everything as a symbol of what you don't know.
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2 Reviews Added on November 14, 2021 Last Updated on November 14, 2021 |

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