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The earth spins, oblivious to the singular orbit of my own heart. Its grand narratives unfold, stories whispered on winds that do not solely carry my name. I am a universe contained, galaxies swirling within skin and bone. My sun rises and sets according to an internal clock, a rhythm felt only by me. The world exists, a stage vast and varied, but my performance is for an audience of one. My applause, my tears, my understanding – these echo within the chambers of my own soul.
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May 31, 2025
May 31, 2025 at 10:21 AM UTC
My world is me
The earth spins, oblivious to the singular orbit of my own heart. Its grand narratives unfold, stories whispered on winds that do not solely carry my name. I am a universe contained, galaxies swirling within skin and bone. My sun rises and sets according to an internal clock, a rhythm felt only by me. The world exists, a stage vast and varied, but my performance is for an audience of one. My applause, my tears, my understanding – these echo within the chambers of my own soul.
Dhaval
Written by
22/M/Winnipeg
May 31, 2025
May 31, 2025 at 10:21 AM UTC
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