observer

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Quiet, I sit and take in the world, spinning in drifts -- golden flecks of ash— a cloud of shimmering possibilities shade my reality.
Throughout history, there have been observers. There have been overseers. There have been sideliners. I am. The world moves on with constant motion. Oppression running wild without submission.
My skin is the skin that God put me in on the day that was the day of the 17th in the month of November the year being the one-thousand nine-hundred nintey-seventh year Anno Domini....
Sleep deprived,zombie-like;as mindless as air,and as mechanical as the gearshiftsof a manual transmission.
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