Bring out the vacuum cleaner.

I look myself in the mirror and see dust, dust not that comes from old age, dust that come from the lack of use. I need to wish away this neglect and look with in and realize the potential.

�Wake up from your illusion, wake up before it�s a little too late.�

A metaphorical coffee later.
�Stop running away.�

Words are so fickle they change meaning so easily, churning out new meanings and hiding the true.

Let the catharsis begin.

See the light.Smile

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