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Time is beginning to weigh in a way that I didn't foresee.
What was once just a lingering and fading dream, is now crisp and sharp in all of its zeal.
As time churns I think that these moments would grow to ache less in the absence of accoutrements.
Maybe my mind lusts for the past. Maybe my memory is a morass...
But the photograph cannot lie. It is pristine and perfect -- all of the passion and longing it brings, is objective, observable, captures everything.
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