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I have a theory, that no matter how bleak things get, nothing's harder than having to leave them behind. Curtain falls. A sky and a sea and the voices of a lifetime of memories. And the tragedy of having to die when all you want is another hour to stay alive.
And know that there is no going back.

Sometimes I write these things about other people's music.
This is a first :D

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Author: Kirtana K

I paint and make music and blog like a maniac. These days I try to run. But I have chicken legs and lungs the size of two-rupee balloons. I fail. I like pajamas and striped socks and books that read like song and songs that sound like poetry and strangers who read this page. And Maggi when I'm sick or cold or sad or celebrating. They'll find noodles in my veins if ever they cut me open. And potatoes. And maybe a tiny bit of whiskey. I'll be an Unidentified Living Object and they'll put my insides on display. It will be crazy. It will be awesome. It will.

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