Catcher In The Rye


If only our lives were merely nothing more that what our imaginations chose to make them
To turn them into
To turn them into
But, we are figments of our own conception
We are figments of our own conception
Together coexisting in cooperation with another to effectuate our aspirations
Existence is life
Existence is comprised by choices, comprised by our chorus
You are your own diety
She'd truth upon this conspiracy







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