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11.19.22 freewriting


how fleeting we are

these societies

these bodies this

species on this

undulating rock lit by this

dying fireball hurtling around a

death hole eating star dust

waiting for the

long cold night that

endlessly stretches out from

the delicious

juicy chaos

panicked youthful exuberance

of our microscopic blip

in what seems a

cosmic flatline

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