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Methodically Mad

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Showing posts from 2019

Forests

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A Dreaming Life

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Some Poems are Born in Bookshops

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January 12, 2019

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Methodically Mad: I belong nowhere, not to anyone. Each time I set my foot on wet soil, I smell the rain, the whiff of fresh grass. I smell freedom like I never have. I walk ahead yet rise above. A spiralling journey up sketched on the map of human heart.

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