unfortunately I was already Bushroot. I look in the mirror & there's a flower growing out of my head. I look down & I've got leaves for hands. I look in my old photos & see I was Bushroot all along.
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holy shit....
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maybe the real bushroot was the friends we made along the way...
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*sheds a tear at the mere idea of having friends...*
- End of conversation
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/ she/they, lesbian
embracing eccentricity in the face of sociological conformity