...

Maybe I don't have to turn this into a novel. But I'm going to make it some short story or sorts. Add a little here, a little there and a blackberry thing over anywhere.
Inspirational drive comes with conflict+human drama+mindfucking and scales of inner-manipulation.
I'm a vulgar young man.
I still wear sunglasses at night. Thank you 1980s for bad haircuts and songs with limited meanings aside synth and The Pixies (if you count them really as the 80s... I don't).
Moving on.

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