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A prayer? Do I pray?
Oh spirits, you are welcome here
Of comfort, friendship, joy, and warmth
Of kindness, mirth, and happy times,
Come in.
Take shelter in our humble walls,
Keep company with those within.
To you, we open now our hearts,
Come in.
There's more stewing in my brain around this, though it's not wanting to put itself to words. I remember that writing didn't used to be this agonizing. Yet all I seem to have recently is Twitter-level blather.
(Speaking of, do people hate/mind/ignore/appreciate/crave my loudtwitter spamming?)
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Of comfort, friendship, joy, and warmth
Of kindness, mirth, and happy times,
Come in.
Take shelter in our humble walls,
Keep company with those within.
To you, we open now our hearts,
Come in.
There's more stewing in my brain around this, though it's not wanting to put itself to words. I remember that writing didn't used to be this agonizing. Yet all I seem to have recently is Twitter-level blather.
(Speaking of, do people hate/mind/ignore/appreciate/crave my loudtwitter spamming?)
click
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On the other hand, I crave it. It is life. It tells me things... beautiful, delicious whispering twittery birdlike things. They get in my head and stroke my thoughts gently, lovingly, like a fifty-armed octopus made of cheese. If I go more than a couple days without seeing a loudtwitter spam, I get a headache.
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