there is me and all the strangeness and desperations that rest upon my shoulders.
And these are such worrying and unfortunate times that fellows will call out as if to
warn me and yet I continue to look upon them with scorn because these fellows have
no such place at my side.
And yet I carry windows that faces can look into, in hope that friendship shall occur.
I am cloaked in distance and haunted by mortality and clockwork chickens.
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