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Surely you’ve realized, Chopin is more than a late night run through dark alleys. It becomes a compromise to wake up every single morning of your life with a spring. Relatively speaking, flowers blooming on your knitted socks, and the frenzied mating of bluebirds. Regardless of dark blood-drenched thoughts traversing the room it shall feel like a sun lives there. Sure there is always Marche Funebre but nobody will notice a dead body in such magnificent weather.
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Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 3:13 PM UTC
Frederic left me here
Surely you’ve realized, Chopin is more than a late night run through dark alleys. It becomes a compromise to wake up every single morning of your life with a spring. Relatively speaking, flowers blooming on your knitted socks, and the frenzied mating of bluebirds. Regardless of dark blood-drenched thoughts traversing the room it shall feel like a sun lives there. Sure there is always Marche Funebre but nobody will notice a dead body in such magnificent weather.
nicole-marie-fraticelli
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Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 3:13 PM UTC
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