typeracer

Pit Stop
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Each memory was brought to life before me and within me. I could not avoid them. Neither could I rationalize, explain away. I could only re-experience with total cognizance, unprotected by pretense. Self delusion was impossible, truth exposed in this blinding light. Nothing as I thought it had been. Nothing as I hoped it had been. Only as it had been.
What Dreams May Come (book) by Richard Matheson
Language: English
Submitted by: foggyy
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