In a moment of perfection which never exists my fantasy persists as all memories are stories of fiction. As the seconds tick away I am in a state of awe. Fascinated and elated to have reached something that doesn’t exist I persist until reality insists that my feelings resist the truth of life. I follow sources and never will become a source of my own. So I continue to be happily enjoying time which is an imagination of my situation of infatuation. I have reached perfection with my introspection with no adversity with the diversity of humanity’s reasoning. Blissfully I enjoy existing in the impossible.
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