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The sun dies every night to let the moon breathe.
This world is so beautiful.
God shows us so much.
I can’t explain this feeling.
Although the sun and moon never meet, the sun dies every night in faith that the mom with rise to light the sky in its place.
Ugh it’s so beautiful.

And perhaps it is most fitting that we are not aware of our own heartbeats,

For fear that it might provoke us like the sound of a million buzzing honeybees

For fear that our internal clockwork may be as inconsistent and unsure as the path we walk ahead of us

For fear that the very sound that drives us mad may suddenly stop as we are listening..

Because everything that moves must halt

Every rhythm must come to an end

And every unending story must come to a conclusion.

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