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Done dealing with the ex for another fortnight. It's like stepping back into the Twilight Zone every time. He never changes. It's bloody weird is what it is... How he can live like that...?
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'...
At poor peace I sing
To you strangers (though song
Is a burning and crested act,
The fire of birds in
The world's turning wood,
For my sawn, splay sounds,)
...'
Dylan Thomas, Author's Prologue
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