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May 2018
I had a tape recorder on my nightstand, once.
Through my ears, normally, my voice is always underlined with my thoughts. Thoughts that echo what I say, or maybe more spirals of curls underneath.
I recorded me talking about unfair, of nice, of crazy things, and played it back.
It sounded like a insignificant thing, trying to be loud, or a robin, trying to roar. Who was I kidding?
I left it there for awhile. Someone pressed the button, and I quickly turned it off.
I guess I'm to much of a chicken to say anything I really think. To afraid of the judges putting me in a jury.
Nova Born
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Nova Born  F
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