the art of dreams

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[It was a beautiful thing, really. It smelled like the sweat of a dancing grenade, and if you listen carefully, you can hear them call it...a "dream."]
"Some girl just asked me if I sold drugs. So I asked her if she sold slaves."
Humans of New York

"Some girl just asked me if I sold drugs. So I asked her if she sold slaves."

Humans of New York



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