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    Яαgιи Яαvєи
    Cairo, Egypt
    Wanting people to listen, you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer, and then you'll notice you've got their strict attention.
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Tapping at my chamber door

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The Counted VS the Countee

I picked it. I'm trapped now and there's nowhere to run for cover. Facing the music becomes inevitable at this stage. It kicks sleep out of your eyes and the meadow becomes sheepless. All you can do is wait for the batteries to run out.

I'm counting the seconds instead now, hoping they'd bore me out of consciousness. They didn't though. They sound like an army of ancient warriors marching up my brain to achieve something spectacular, glory, and be a part of history. The History of my nights by R.R… by very own bestseller that I've been tricked into buying.

Every single night… what an idiot!

I can't wait for tomorrow.

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