Peoples words are like stairways, leading you beyond their outer shelling and deeper into their dream factory. What you find is only your thoughts contorted and bleeding into one another, forming your superficial interpretation of their screams. Soon, the conversation shall become an inner fiasco. The stairway shall often present you with nothing more than a trap door. Endure the darkness that lay ahead. Turn it to light, smile, laugh and, in doing so, stimulate the universe in more places than one. You shall turn your ears back to the stairway and find instead another being emitting the heavens right back to you, for they have a dream factory to show you.
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