true to yourself

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Along the road of the merciless my feet bare, cut, callused drifting upon the dirt The itch I have long chased has been a millennia  Making the journey wearing the shoes of travelers before
Layer upon layer of masks. One small, one red, one plagued with faux happiness. A mask of royal purple. A mask as silver as starlight. The streets are crowded with personalities, each one unique as a gem.
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