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Laureate's Journal


Laureate's Journal

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1 entry this month
 

17:20 Feb 05 2010
Times Read: 523


There was no sand at that beach. It was all rock, as if it were brand new, and not yet worn down to the fine sands... yet it was ancient. Either a mystery, or a resilience modern eyes had no comprehension of. And we didn't feel its pain.



The moon dropped every inch of the water there. And in the evening, it was revealed in the reflection.



We knew. God wanted us to rage, rage, rage against the machine; to love every moment of our lives. Love our lives, even if our love passed through forbidden doors.



That's how it was and how it happened. One hundred percent lovely, and completely not allowed.


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