Mar 4, 2021
Sometimes when I run down the stairs and I trip, stumble, bend over like twig, flail all about and still somehow manage not to plummet to my certain death, a curious sense of accomplishment fills my soul.
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Sometimes when I run down the stairs and I trip, stumble, bend over like twig, flail all about and still somehow manage not to plummet to my certain death, a curious sense of accomplishment fills my soul.