My dear friend Mr Peter Harlequin hated to live on earth as people were ugly, so he decided to take his favourite kite and to go live in the sky, among the clouds and the stars.
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Our whole life takes such a stupid shape – so many things perish – so many are thwarted, and painful nonsense results, and along the way, Like tiny piles of shit, tiny works nobody needs. (Witkacy)
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