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2002-06-19 - 10:47 a.m. strings attached to the blacksmith's necklace ooze out the blood that had been saved up since the dawn of the bronze age at which time the maiden dances around the true son of the Lewd the portraits of the last family on the plains begin to crack under the weight of the heavy pain and burden of being invisible in a land where only the visible are given worth he watches it all unfold, and grins knowingly, for she is clueless to it all
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