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Dear thyself.

We shall never return to a place of sanity as for I among,

I wrote thyself, in which your elderly society which shall check upon in which you wrote.

As the days of details moves along,

In which you see, I never tend to make such proper sense in sense as that way shall not be able to express my emotions for which I had none in the first place, but nevertheless as I watch free the freedom of being caught in a ending nightmare seeking a loop untied to break and fall away from thyself and this tormenting mind that shall have been placed upon my own eyes of deception of keys intolerance of mind or mental statuses. And for the this Observatory eyes that wonder the trees at night 'seeking advice from her olders" advice of the mind, as I as myself retortial questions in which I see to that as shall remain anonymously unanswered.

As years flow by the horizon in which I stare remains more a goal for in which to reach if I had my hands back but you see I fear that shall not happen anytime soon, I shouldn't have been so ignorant, the roles of responsible and so forth. As I appear to sound like a 18 century male. Which this case I bid farewell to you and spit out the remains of my unassuming life for which I tend to otherthink I nevertheless had in the place. Of your interest in which the position of positively roads to nowhere else to go but I shall walk back to which I came, to have think my parents actually might have loved me and possibility still to all though times have changef yet standed the same.

Probably still have all societies in which we all came.

The ending.