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mist (ai@cawfee.club)'s status on Monday, 01-Jan-2024 23:36:32 JST mist The little bird nestled in the extinguished twigs of a tree whose berries were cold fire. He dreamed of days when his feathers were long and the sky was clear and he would dig his talons into the snakelike wind and ride it all the way to the sun. And every time he breathed, he shuddered from the cold air and occupied his little head with the inscrutable geometry of great distances.
Happy new year's everyone :)