My choice, only artistic integrity at stake, not the real kind. Will last about, oh, three or four days before I decide life was once easier, why did I ever complain. Had everything I needed, I mean have. For a moment there I considered, I've got so many great principles I love my life by, I could sacrifice one or two, bigger picture.
But nah. Flying solo is for trained pilots, not average citizens who can't fathom why it's so hard to have a conversation. Why is it so hard to have a conversation? No one knows. Maybe somebody's standing on your head and you can't think straight, or won't. Not my business, never was mine.
Oh, trust me, I'll never pursue the dark arts again. Three times didn't end up being a charm, why invest in four. Okay, two days it is. I can't suffer like this anymore.
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