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A masquerade of caliber

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The Authenticity of Abjection

With the world at my back and wind in my bones, I ride, never to look back at the beaten byway beneath my being.   I am broken in both body and brain, yet as I take breath, I too take reverence for the actualities of amity.   Conceivably, I may one day convene such company, but I fear such falsehoods fit only fabrication, and even now I escape existence and elope with allegory.   Know this --- such stories hold no substance, no pertinenc



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