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Rated: E · Monologue · Psychology · #2260382
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My head can become a carousel of delusion. The same memories replaying to current affectivities with changing dispositions, narratives controlled by the limbic system. The flashbacks mould with the present; fanciful half-dreams asserting reality, yet distorting with the cheeks and brows.
Maybe the past is always as vague as your self-identity; doubt your standing and the foundation will shake.
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