The world is beatfuil. Robots and aindorids wait on us, make us meals, dress us, deliver whatever we could want or need to us. The world is our oyster, we wear the crowns. But we don't make anyone esle bow down to us. What would be the use? Theres only a handful of us left. 8, to be exact. All of us jealoulys guard our same treasure. The last of the oxygen-makers, the trees.
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Thoughts & Actions
AléatoireHi wonderful people. I have decided. This book will be used to be weird and jot down thoughts and whatever I want.
