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"Tell the chef, the beer is on me."
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But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there.
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Celestial Mapping and Celestial Proportions by Tallmadge Doyle
Reposted from
thehedgehogsdilemma via
alexandersmith8805
thehedgehogsdilemma via alexandersmith8805