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She was always falling; always slopping. . . downwards, and with speed.

Down and down; deeper and deeper, until her head would turn, and her insides would go wild. 

It happened everyday; Everyday, until she realized that she was real, and that the world was real too.

She knew it was kind of late. But that was her pace. And realizing that gave her peace. The peace of finding herself -  not again, but for the first time.

- Eunicezika.

                       

ThoughtsCerita yang bikin terobses. Temukan sekarang