A new month begins, mild in the morning, gentle in ignorance. You feel poetry sitting just at the flutter of your eyelids, reminders of times past you are ready to usher in anew. Freedom tastes sweeter when you remember what it truly entails. The new leaf on your calendar whispers to you it might be possible, and you cling desperately to the words.
It's November now. What will you do with all the gifts you've been given?
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