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  • We sat on my roof that night, just listening to the hum of the cars on the highway and watching the gagillions of stars twinkle in the sky above us. It was an interesting dichotomy: the angry whir of rubber touching pavement against the stillness of the night, the crispness of the air, the perfect piercing lights of the stars against the coal black sky. It gave me something to think about, that's for sure. Even the most perfect of moments are really never "perfect." Just-about-perfect sounds right to me, anyway.
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