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the favorite stories we tell ourselves,

a fake stone on a “fashion” ring,

this moment, still a mystery,

moods of cities I’ve never been,

this summer is still in my soul only.

if we could only see the right path to the brightest future, there would be no stories worth telling anymore; only an endless, blinding Now, reflected in billions of diamond like fractions of pure potentiality.

collage Parallel Stories - 3s