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Tel Quel

je sais bien mai quand même

I’m human, sometimes like a child.
I get nightmares, I get panic attacks. I get emotional seizures.

My universe is a catachrestic collision of insignificant nouns, verbs, some pronouns, except You and I, subjects; in a tenuous object-value system. The resistance of classification is culminated in a breathless pause, that which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet, or doubly foul.

But you are human, sometimes like a child
As I am, with irrational fears and doubts, therefore perfect (for each other). In a world of player Kings and player Queens, the truth of the matter, of matter, or truth itself; is metatheatrical, as in Shakespeare.

Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear
Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.

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