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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Other >> ID #1622297 |
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My brain is working overtime.
Unpaid for all its hard work. But who asked it to do all these things? Is my brain not my slave but my master? It is ulitmately up to me to choose my thoughts and what I will do with them. If I choose to battle am I not simply going to war with myself? My brain is my most powerful and dangerous tool. In the scope of my imagination, lies both unparralled beauty and regrettable tortures.
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