The Days That Pass By
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Description
They were no longer bustling teeneragers, or rosy-cheeked children running amongst other children wielding wooden sticks and kicking up dirt - no longer was it the times in which they could go about playing soccer until the sun settled down. The grass-stained knees and dirty socks - robots and kites and paper lanterns and broken crayons - all memories. Time grew on them, and it showed. They weren't young anymore
- but they weren't old yet either.
Foreword
"If you want to view paradise, simply look around and do it
anything you want to do, do it
there's nothing else to it"
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