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Come closer. What is your name? Your favorite color? Music? Book? Don't be afraid. Are you high? Did you follow me here? Look, A shooting Star. Close your eyes, make a wish. Am I everything you ever dreamed? Come to me, let me look at you. I can smell the salt on your skin. Take my hand, I will lead you to where the Moon is always high. Where the fae dance and the siren sing. Into the enchanted land of every man's dream. Into the land of Night Screams.
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We are all survivors of our lives, our lessons carved across our bodies in scars, some visible, some invisible, but all ache in the cold, burn in the summer heat, and twinge at odd moments when we move too fast, and forget our lessons. We are all survivors of something, remember that, and be kind to each other, or at least, less cruel.