PULITZER
GRAY
And now I am running, running, along the
way with my wild beard and unvarnished time.
I am running on. I flee the pursuit of fleeing.
This place - I do not know, cannot quite
call it, it goes unrecognized - it tries to
hold me, keep me in place. Yeah, but I
will not let it. I am the one with both the
lock and the key in my possession.
Is that not right? Is that the way
it's supposed to be? I am
running, running on.
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