It takes a lot sometimes to wake us up to thee very thing that has been staring us in thee face.
I feel reawakened to my own sense of identity.
How do I know this?
I go back to thee very thing I sleep on myself about.
WRITING!
It's thee writer in me.
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Why do we stray away thee most from that which calls out to our souls?
I ask rhetoricals cause i am thee Mystic oracle ...
If nothing changes, nothing changes!
and now everything is Changed!
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