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Thank you for being here to help me open the door,
the pain in my head, there is no more,
the freedom of my wings
the feeling of when I sing
my heart is a bell,
the space you hold for me is the mallet,
let this bell ring
your love is everything
your voice is more beautiful than anything
my one and only
how ive waited to feel this way
theres nothing more I can say,
but....
I love you
What is the distinction between "good" and "evil"?
Must I fear what others fear?
What abysmal nonsense this is!
― Jack Kerouac, On the Road