in a world gone mad, only lunatics are truly insane.
sometimes similarities are differences. and sometimes differences become apparitions - ghosts of what we were before, empty thoughts of what we will become. how many gold bullets does it take to make a point? how many bullets does it take to take a life? how many bullets does it take to make peace? one greater than none, in a world gone mad, in a place where humanity no longer has much meaning.
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