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There is a hunger in my heart that cannot be quenched by sheer entertainment. It must be doused in life, succulent in spirituality, to be worth moving me. Old bones, solid word, a good hand shake. I’m tired, but aren’t we all? Craving what we don’t understand, walking to God only knows where to end up seeking something else. To fill, fill, fill the- well you know. Rebellious little things igniting bigger flames in our wanderlust hearts. Open your eyes, or do you not see what’s in front of you? It’s March, not the New Year’s resolution you forgot day 2 of 1999. Wasted nights spent outside dancing in the park light hoping for a chance to kiss the moon, only the moon doesn’t know you, you know you, and what you know about you, is the fire inside you isn’t going to go out unless you let it, you sly dog you. You with your hands in your mouth, take um out.

Have a glass of whiskey, or two.

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