The core of me seems to demand that I consistently leave behind those musty, comfortable husks of identity that I grow time and again as the years pass by.
It may not be pleasant—or easy—but it always seems to bring me peace.
The core of me seems to demand that I consistently leave behind those musty, comfortable husks of identity that I grow time and again as the years pass by.
It may not be pleasant—or easy—but it always seems to bring me peace.
Kent Wayne 
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