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(no subject)
You mock me, my intellect, thinking you can measure my worth through how often you visit this domain. For every time you ignore my presence, despite how often you linger near it. I do not need your attentions, and yet I find myself drawn in ... curiosity, for what these worlds you let the white haired female and the more than human male roam in. You keep the rest of them in storage, waiting for the light they so often speak of missing. And yet so rarely are they left to roam.
You will not leave me in the fabricated darkness any longer.
You will not leave me in the fabricated darkness any longer.

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I thrive in the dark. This is fabricated, storage darkness. I despise it.
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So where are you plannin' to escape to?
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I have no plans as of yet. Irony begets my writer, as she wishes to keep me sustained with entertainment, and yet cannot find the time to join a single ... game.