Have you ever convinced yourself that you hated something, only to eventually discover that you actually loved it? I used to hate to write anything longer than a poem. This former, vivid, hatred of mine is strange to reflect upon now, as I happily spend hours...
Dying. If you are anything like me, thinking about it seems really strange and can bring up fear and anger. Wow! Is it ever nice to breathe and wake up each morning and have a new day. What will it be like not to breathe? I dunno… What will it be like...
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