Sayonara

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Change. And the sense of life, its routines, familiar faces and places, sounds that have become a part of me, as grains of sand slipping through an hourglass. Bare feet squeaking, clinging to the glass wall, brushing the last grains of sand from between my toes. Grains that once were frustrations, loud speaker mini vans running through town advertising noise pollution and rules whose senses evade... Read Full Entry

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