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Cotton Candy is Evil
For the Forsaken
Drifting away
I am floating. And i wonder, does everyone feel like this always? What keeps people anchored? Is it love, family, work, place or some combination of those things? I let time wash over me and the places shift seemlessly into one another. Is this what they call an existential crisis? Who am i? Where do i fit into this universe? Why is it so complicated? Sleep comes fitfully carrying strange images in on the tide; i cling to my otter baby like a mermaid caught in a tempestuous sea.

snugglebunnykins
Community Member
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