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Writer’s Block
It's my block though. And out of it...I can't build anything. Fore nothing has ever been built with one block, but maybe if I had a knife. Hmm...something sharp. I could carve this block into an articulate expression of self realization, but alas I have nothing sharp. Just me and my block. I tried to rub it away with friction, but all I got was splinters. I tried to stomp on it and throw it into the walls, but I just got bruises. So here I am..with my block. A beautiful thing our relationship. He has more shackles around me than any human being could have...I'm no longer free to express things. Oh, well. Bound and Gagged. These are my thoughts.. Humiliated by this simple block.
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