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you even have any idea of what this will look like? Favoritism, that's what. No, I'm afraid you'll have to put the cooler of organs away for now. And put the fork down too.
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name was Matthew James Wilson, this time around, and he had no complaints over his name this time. A bit normal, but not terrible. He could deal with that.
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warped image of my face looking back at me and it wasn't me but it was wearing my skin and my smile and my voice, all twisted
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least, after all, when I get hung in the middle of the square as a traitor to our nation, I won't be a fashion eyesore to everyone else. I plan on looking pretty for the occasion.
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to lead us into the Abyss of Thought Provoking Words that mean very little upon further reflection.
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Very few people cared enough to pretend that they cared about anything, Maybe they had lost faith in communication a long time ago.
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thinking that I can see beyond the veil of reality. There is a sort of sadness that arrives with these thoughts, and I wish
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that still smelled of cigarettes even though I hadn't smoked in years. Everything seemed quiet.
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She wonders if they ever want to be apart from each other, ever want to separate the bond between them, but she doesn't ask.
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She smiles and does not let her teeth show, and her target flushes red under her gaze, and she wonders if anyone will mourn him when he's gone.
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A faint memory lingered in each breath; he could feel the phantom touch of a hand on his before the sensation faded away. He closed his eyes.
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may use when writing is to insert something completely random, in this case, a man standing at the front door holding a ripped letter and a memory.
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want to be anyone but me, and is it psychopathic of me to say I would blow up the whole world if (when) I die so no one can live beyond or without me?
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shoes with your fingernails and counting every scrap that comes your way and wishing you had bothered to read the fine print before you signed your life away.
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rises, don't you know that's the law of probability right there, in action, and a single win is worth a hundred losses to you because you don't ever think about the odds, do you?
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The world seemed slower then, and he had been impatient, and how he wished he could go back and time and scream to his younger self to hold on to these moments while they last.
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manage to understand one another in ways no one else could understand. The two were so alike and yet so different in temperament, but they were each other's reflection.
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He described hearing, at first, a gurgling. Then it alternated with wheezing and gasping. It was capped off by a body slamming cough and BAM his head exploded. “How many times?”
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But that never seemed to be the full answer, and I struggled to understand why others couldn't seem to flip their ideals and ideas around to see the other side as I did.
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Now there were too many characters to juggle the narrative, and the author was still trying to add to the cast.