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WHO ARE YOU?
How do we ever really know what type of people we are Can anybody ever really reach their own core People can be thought of as pieces of paper Life cuts, colors, splashes, fills, and crumples But what if life actually just writes in pencil What if everything you think you are could be erased or drawn over at any moment What if the ink lines by which we “live” our lives and “know” ourselves are simply evanescent graphite What do you think...?
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