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The results are immediate and obscure all alternatives. The most miniscule motion portends a proliferation of susceptible affects dancing across an amaranthine fold. I am at that particular physical place within the anatomy of doubt where distance has little to do with the movement between two points. The distinctions between objects and their naming is merely the residue immediacy that courses like a doomed circuit all through and around me. A fractured Anima. An Apostate waning. The waves ever shortening. If I do return it will be through no force of my own.
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