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gathered, cross legged and bright eyed. And when it ends, those stay seated waiting for more, knowing it's over. But when I hear the story of my conception, the hairs on my skin stand on end, and
we can't all run away. Heaven knows , the hiding, the running would be all but welcome right now, so easy. But so wrong. I can save them, it's my destiny, I believe. Although papa and mama, refuse to acknowledge this. They'd rather I stay at out of something so vile and destructive. I don't blame them, but their request is a hard one, an impossible one. But I feel it
~~
ld make like worth living? On dark days, what would be the light? On sad days, what would bring you joy? what would bring a smile to your face, the bright , precious light to yours eyes? so maybe there is a choice, and that the problem isn't really if you'll be given a choice or not, but rather, if you'll make the right choice. the choice to chase the light, the choice to chase the good. t
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