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  • Writer's pictureJames Kidac

with regret

sharing oneself with the world is not fulfilling as once was. all the words converge into stories and yet stories feel biased in a rudimentary construct. convoluted noises unpublished remains popular with one's heart. perhaps it is another day, another person to flesh out the intricacies of a passing moment. perhaps one will return to his roots and hope for the best.

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