The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. “The wrappered life-discipline! One comes to that at last. The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune.
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This video was uploaded to g-zaporozhe.info on 29-05-2024 08:28:00
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