I turned the bad poison tainting my blood into tons of happy bubbles that blew oxygen into my feet, then streamed upward into a mind of strength.
...
Kind of like when you would gasp, laugh, smile, yearn, meditate, sprint, dance, sigh, and cry; all of those verbs holding hands that never would separate.
-some excerpts from my journal that I am now inspired to regularly write in. (This entry from Sasquatch 2010 music festival).
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