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I look into the mirror and do not recognize the man I see once caged like a bird, I have finally been set free. "Who are you?" I ask my reflection. It simply answers, "Me." I've grown new branches, offered up fruit, like a virile hazel tree. Now I refuse to be chained, ruled by any arbitrary decree. I have risen from the dust. Shaken off all the debris. My fingers have become webbed, gills adorn my neck, and I begin my sojourn towards the sea. Apart from any zealotry or wizardry, apathetic to any bourgeoisie, I look towards the future utterly filled with glee.
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
Metamorphosis
I look into the mirror and do not recognize the man I see once caged like a bird, I have finally been set free. "Who are you?" I ask my reflection. It simply answers, "Me." I've grown new branches, offered up fruit, like a virile hazel tree. Now I refuse to be chained, ruled by any arbitrary decree. I have risen from the dust. Shaken off all the debris. My fingers have become webbed, gills adorn my neck, and I begin my sojourn towards the sea. Apart from any zealotry or wizardry, apathetic to any bourgeoisie, I look towards the future utterly filled with glee.
raymond-johnson
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
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