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  • Flashes of gold in the brown desert -- sometimes tiny flecks, like fool's gold. Other times an entire river.

    This river is my life: Traveling, traveling, traveling, only to find I've backtracked on myself and am no farther from where I started. Sometimes I've even fallen behind.

    And yet, like the river, I make convoluted progress.

    And in certain lights, people mistake me for pure gold.
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