Each second is a graveyard of possibilities. Hear the shrieks of the futures that could have been, their cries of desperation, their pleas for instantiation. An infinite chorus of realities, destroyed.
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Indecision dooms more realities, not fewer. The truest, most beautiful realities need nurturing which they can no longer receive. Culled, before they could truly sing.
3:29 PM - 27 Jan 2019
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