Sometimes love is bitter. It left us alone in despair and blue, feeling
lost without clue. Or it can be seemed around, while in fact we only
share the unending loneliness in round. Guess that's love sometimes
meant to be - it's messy. And we are all playing a game about it like
children bathing carefree in mud. No matter what happened, love is the
mess we (might) need.
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