And it comes down to this - writing and some bad prose. It all leads to something new, something more... and I become weary of working on my words. But I continue to do so, as it compels me to do more - to write more and create more.
For the world is now mine to mold into what I desire, and I wish for nothing but blissful words that work out the problems I see.
Come on, follow me - we'll soon be able to find the truth we've reached for all this time...
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