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'Swift as the sun revolves the day we hasten to the dead; slaves to the wind we puff away and to the ground we tread.'
Would've loved whatever new cryptic thing you were going to send next. So much has happened in so little time, but I know maybe in a long while for now, I'll be able to share it all with you again. Maybe chat like we used to in the odd hours of the night, like the time I'm writing this.
Love and miss you, pal.