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Overdrive

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Friday’s balance

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Still winter

I never knew how much rage the sight of snow could provoke. I mean, it’s so pretty and white, fluffy and falling like tiny ice cream from the sky. Except, I’m so incredibly tired of seeing it. It feels sometimes that all I remember is endless landscapes of white, and winter-blue skies Where has the…
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The job

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Nighttime musings

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A typical Monday

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The weaving

Strands of happiness, Twisted grief Bunched up anger, loose relief The fabric of our stories knits us together, Filled with small stitches as strong as leather The material isn’t smooth, or even in colour But without variation Life would be much duller So just remember On days when you struggle every thread adds beauty Even…



