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taniableh


yes, it's called desire...

tales from a girl near the center of the world


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taniableh
my version of tomorrow speech by shakespear

Tomorrow,
and tomorrow,
and tomorrow, creeps
in this petty pace
from day to day,
to the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays
have lighted fools the way to dusty death.
Out,
out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow,
a poor player
that struts and frets his hour
upon the stage and then
is heard no more:
it is a tale told by an idiot,
full of sound and fury,
signifying
nothing.

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