#monologue

416 posts
  • muskaanbhatt_ 1w

    There can be any reason to suicide and anyone could be thinking of that,so try to council the depressed ones, try to help them to get out of their tensions.

    And dear parents put only that much pressure on your child which can be tolerated by them, don't put too much that they die under that burden.

    Thanks for the ❤ @writersnetwork



    #pod #wod #start #miraquill #suicide #love #writers #ceesreposts @miraquill #monologue @writersnetwork @miraquill_assistant

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    BUT WHY DO THEY SUICIDE?
    WHY DO THEY END UP THEIR LIVES?


    May be they do because of their families, love,social pressure,studies or lack of religious knowledge.

    It might be any reason but actually they think the pain of this world is more horrible than the pain and punishment of the next world, they end their pain of this world but invite eternal pain of hell.

    But let's understand their perspective too.

    They somehow know that it's a big sin but they can't stop themselves from ending up their lives because they are mentally so much disturbed and in pain that they think suicide is the best solution to end their intolerant pains.

    But all credit goes to their families who are so much busy with only their child's education, jobs, and degree and not telling their children about the religious studies, about what's wrong and right, about how Satan attacks, about the another world, parents who pressurise their kids to do this and that degrees by not listening to what the children actually wants to do, parents who just wants high standard jobs for their children but not allowing their children to go for business( small units which later on become big), parents who forcefully marry their children with their own choosen person, but not letting their children to marry whom they want.

    Parents kill their children just to satisfy their wills and after the suicide, they question their selves why their child suicided.

    ©muskaanbhatt

  • muskaanbhatt_ 1w

    Now I just want to know is there any other additional way to trace out that cellphone or to get that back without complaining to the police��‍♀️

    #pod #wod #miraquill #writers @writersnetwork @miraquill @miraquill_assistant #story #monologue

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    Handset Stolen (a short story)

    Few weeks back, I guess 4-5 weeks ago, I lost my cell phone ( vivo v15) in his locality, when we were on our date, there I kept my cell,slingbag,other stuff and food items near the bank of the stream, and went into the stream with him to capture pictures and shots, there we were so much lost in one another, and in clicking that we forgot there are alot of people(many were his known and others were unknown)present there who can easily stole our stuff as that area is already so much notorious which I wasn't knowing before the theft, therefore when we came back to the bank of the stream where I had kept all my things, there I was trying to find my cell phone, I checked my bag and things,amd I noticed the cell wasn't present there but the cash and atm,credit cards and other stuff was there as before it was, I was so much in shock and thinking how can a person steal things of others without any hesitation, I was disappointed at that moment not because of the phone, but because everything got spoilt be it his mood, our happiness and the date, just because of me being an irresponsible person, then there we tried to find but as everyone knows thieves won't be waiting there for us to come and take that back from him, then after alot of hardwork we couldn't find that, at that moment I wasn't worried about the cell more than I was worried about the sim cards and the personal numbers,as the cell was not having any password and pattern so anybody could have misused that for different purposes, as I never keep my cell locked as everytime I transfer my data to pc ( be it pics, vids, pdfs,notes, recordings,contacts,or anything except my call history details ,sms and whatsApp, drive, emails and backups,log in-outs) and fortunately I keep these apps locked and rest is always open from the lock screen to the other others and same was with that cell too ,I was worried about the sim but I was little bit happy also about that I wasn't having any personal data in that which could be misused, then later on I went to the sim service provider(with id proofs which are always with me)and immediately blocked those sims which were in that phone and bought their duplicates, and changed the passwords of all the accounts,and tried logging out the accounts from the device, but thanks to you love who always help me in hardships, thanks for giving me your cell to use as I refused but can't argue with you❤, so moving on I went to my house , and tried searching the cell phone box for imei no. for tracing that cell ,as he said he will trace out just give the imei, which I couldn't unfortunately find, then it took me 2 days to get that imei details through my gmail account which I had created on that cell phone, finally i get the imei no. He tried to trace out from alot of people who could help in tracing but we got no result but he said the thief could be the known one who were present there at that time and who we're stalking, he then said he will talk to police about the matter as it was the last option but I refused because I don't wanna interact with the police as I had never seen a police station from inside nor I had talked to any cop anytime as I hate JK-police and I didn't wanted to encounter with them, if I would they will definitely try to link my family, love and my life with that stupid cell and with that thief, which I never want to happen, so I said to him ❤ leave that cell now i don't need that back, after few days I bought the new cell and gave him his spare phone back and then mom was like where is your phone I just said that some girl stole that in my college and I have no idea who, and now I got the duplicate sims and that's why I bought a new cell‍♀️, she said you are so inactive and irresponsible which I am actually , and my Little sister said shouldn't you complain to police, I was speechless thinking from inside (story is something else what will I say to the cops) then my dearest mom said, leave that cell, no need to complain about that as that complain will surely ruin anyone's career which I don't want as I am also having daughters ❤
    That's my mom non comparisonable
    ©muskaanbhatt

  • muskaanbhatt_ 2w

    Thank god, I may not be a good person but I am definitely not like you guys (the illegal ones) ����

    You guys don't even have the guts of tagging me In your posts, which you people write about me on topics which I do and write but you show with a fake description instead of the truth, but I am grateful that I am such a great person for you that you guys created fake I'ds just to write(in tuti phuti english) everyday about me and just to stalk my stuff��such a schedule free persons they are��

    P:s : they pretend they haven't read my story when in reality they read it whole from top to bottom, but say we didn't read as we don't like, it was so long, when in reality they read it all that's why they knew the story was long, and if you didn't read, then how you got to know, what the story was ,����insane, and about whom, stop giving solacements to yourselves.

    Thanks @writersnetwork for the ❤

    #pod #wod #miraquill #haters @miraquill @Miraquill_assistant @writersnetwork #monologue

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    Too much jealousy and hatred I am enjoying✌and laughing at the same time

    Few days back, I just noticed that my many so called haters are also present here on this platform,I didn't want to write about them but I was feeling bored so thought of kicking them back, so they have made fake accounts with fake known names and are posting shit about me and my writings, and are puking out their jealously and hatred from their posts which are they trying to frame about me, like they think I am faking my things, achievements and I am copying my writing from search engines and I am remixing others writing with my own and give credit to myself lol, well firstly let me explain I don't notice that much of other people but when I notice,i notice very badly.


    Firstly I am not having any fake thing as my life is an open book but you haters show your things as private,when there alot of people who know your whole history, being private on social fake media doesn't mean your real life is that much private when everyone knows the real life history of yours, the amount of open book I am on social media describes the amount of how much private my real life is,secondly I achieved alot by the grace of God and with support of my mom, otherwise I wasn't interested in achieving anything and where you wanna see the achievement proofs your place or mine, thirdly what you had written I use search engines for copying, I must say you are revealing these truth about yourself that's why you think everyone is like you,let me tell you my every post and poem poetry story writing everything it's all my own written by myself using my heart and my brain as original real writing comes from inside of us not from search engines, I may use a dictionary for my writing as I am not professional,just started writing from the start of this year after a gap of 10 years,but never so called search engines and so called books of others to write my stuff, and what you had mentioned in your 2rs posts that everyone is a self made writerwriter not just me,exactly everyone may be a self made(not going to Institutes to learn writing), but for me self made means (not having any guide,not having any one from family background as a writer, not Consulting books of others to know how to write and all as I don't buy nor read books rather then my medical books and the holy book(haters be like reading books of others but not having time to read our religious books), and continuing,not taking any known writers teaching and training to write, not going through writing platform or source to take guidance to write as I am a freelance writer without any source and guidance), writing for me is like some ideas accidently come to my mind I think just for a minute and then I write without consulting anything, it's your problem if you like or not, I don't give a shit about that, and fourthly whaT you said I am remixing my wordings with other's writing and give credit to myself, well there is a plagiarism option you can go for that to check the posts are orginal or not, you will easily get to know, if whenever you feel like I am copying and so you can report, and fiftly must say the words and language you use in your posts so called which are for me, I must say you are such a downgraded person like your mouth sticks with the smell of swear language, and last but not the least what you had posted I follow I alot of accounts then gain the new followers and unfollow again and then posted I got 100 in 10 days and 100 now in 1 day haha so (jab ata karti hu apko nahi ata karna toh mai karu us mai)wese you haters also follow hell lot of people for gaining likes and followers but in return people don't follow you guys as much they follow me because my writing is much heavier then yours, look my old mirakee account I didn't use that from 3 days and still there no one unfollowed me and it's power of writing not the game of unfollow follow, if it was that then being inactive for 3 days I would have lost half of them but see I am gaining the followers there too and you are so much jealous of that, and you guys should be jealous of that because everyone knows you haters are on this platform from a long period of time still not gaining that much,and followers likes reposts comments, they are just numbers but somehow these numbers give writers like a motivation and support to write more and more with the same enthusiasm and it shows how much people love a person's writing,may Almighty give you haters some patience to tolerate my things.dont know how many are involved but who cares.

    Haha well carry-on and write shit about, i will appreciate that and will do more better better in my life,so that you haters will die of jealous more quickly,I don't give a damn about you people, but let me remind you do you guys know what that person is known as who talk behind the backs, you backbite, everyone knows what that person is known as, I don't wanna make my mouth dirty, if I have problem with anyone I directly talk to them on their face not like you gutless persons who know how wrong and highly mistaken they are that's why you guys keep making fake accounts and write false information about me, which is actually about your own selves not about me or others, you are having hate and jealousy for me, talk direct on my face, stop doing kiddish things by making fake I'd and posting about my topics which I do and write but with a false information. Such an immature beings they are, may lord show you the right path and stop you from doing prohibited things which you guys do on daily basis without any guilt
    ©muskaanbhatt_

  • sugandh_ankahi 4w

    Scattering

    I have a pen and a diary
    Pen is brimming with ink
    And paper is glossy

    From window
    I can see the night sky
    The moon being the silvery one
    Gloating in its glory

    I am supposed to pick
    from myriad possibilities
    A pearl of capability
    Or symbol of duty

    I am here to find way
    Through Labyrinth of choices
    In maze of uncertainty

    The one right lego , that final piece of puzzle
    All the right steps and overcoming every hurdle

    I have friends and companions
    Proverbs ,sayings or idioms
    Cautious warnings or claps at podium

    I can be a fierce princess
    Or gentle warrior
    An encompassing shadow
    Or a glittering lamp

    But the day was long, and now it's night
    I m just tired from burden of picking right

    I am thankful
    That I have a pen and a diary
    Few random words and some poetry
    -sugandh
    ©sugandh_ankahi

  • seraiah_smiles 4w

    ☘️
    "What Can I Utter?"


    What can I utter?
    Knowing Thee more compels me
    To love Thee greater.
    ©seraiah_smiles

  • kingdomdelight 3d

    Born again

    A monologue is a long speech by one person in a conversation. It is mostly used in dramatic mediums like play to express a character's innermost thoughts.

    --Complete the monologue starting with---

    Zen you know, we are all born as plain natural rocks and hurdles are like sculptors who break us, beat us and scatter us before we transform into beautiful sculptures. Life really starts only when we receive a new heart. When our heart of stone turns into a heart of flesh.
    Beating with compassion for the things that matters the most in life! God !
    The things of eternal value ! We are by God's grace and mercy, the eternal, sculptures of God's images. To become, we only have to simply apply His living word to our life. His word active and alive.
    His word never returns void. He Prunes and cuts, all the unwanted things, from our life.
    So we will be able to bear much more fruit. God the Author and Finisher of our life and faith.
    We of course, feel every needle prick, in the begining of the flesh!
    Oh, the flesh is so selfish and such a cry baby! Throwing tantrums of pure earthly dust!
    We feel every sharp edge cut. Those slicing, us away, little by little! Iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens the other. Silently, pealing us like an onion. Oh, how our life turns into an atmosphere of fears and pity party tears. While layers and layers, fall over time, dead to the ground. Silly, for it was merely pieces of dust!
    At the begining, we feel the most, because, we are still hard and stubborn like a natural rock.
    But when we finally die to the flesh, we transform into the most beautiful sculpture...
    One who stands firmly on a strong foundation of pure solid rock. All glory to the living, Lord. Amen
    You see, Zen we all are born plain but we have to be born again. Born by the Spirit of God !
    Oh, all those born of the Spirit became unbreakable, untouchable and unstoppable for God's Kingdom. They will shine with His eternal glory for ever and ever. Glory to God. Amen.

    ©kingdomdelight

  • mr_selfmuser 5w

    ANOTHER MONOLOGUE

    Hey.! How are you..?
    Are you missing the moments spent with me..?
    Can't tell about you but, I am missing it badly,
    I vowed to myself, no missing you !!,
    anymore..!
    But my heart achs without you, and you are the only cure,
    Seriously, I had buried all those memories in my heart,
    Don't know how, it is being alive & reviving all the past,
    It is as painful for me as astonishing it is for you,
    Yes, I still have feelings for you, probably more than before, of which you have no clue,

    ©mr_selfmuser

  • lucy08 5w

    Humble yet Special

    Doesn't it feel amazing
    When someone shares the same fears as yours??
    When they admit their insecurities head-on??
    It just makes you feel like
    You have been made so similar to them
    You are so identical at the core level
    Infact,
    You feel more human with all these trepidations
    You no longer have to fear fear
    You are allowed to be yourself without being afraid anymore of the repercussions
    And most importantly
    This realization makes you feel so ordinary that
    you finally step down from your self-made lofty throne
    & choose to be one among your own people,
    putting on a rather modest cloak
    just like every ordinary being
    but still carrying your unique self as your only treasure
    And that is being "Humble yet Special"!!
    ©lucy08

  • diparg 5w

    My Darling,
    This season also will pass,
    Like the summer and rain,
    The void will fill with something else
    or by someone else..
    In this vast universe where
    everything happens for a reason.
    So when things end,
    Don't wonder too much-
    about how and why.
    Remember to trust thee self,
    And turn the page,
    Explore a new chapter of life,
    With hope, with faith.
    ©diparg

  • soultxt 5w

    Sometimes we find hope in untrustworthy times in unknown places with known strangers

    ©soultxt

  • xoliswamgidlana_ 5w

    Zen you know, we were all born as plain natural rocks and hurdles are like sculptures who break us, beat us and scatter us before we transform into beautiful sculptures. Life tends to subject us into it's rollercoaster of experiences and expose us of our attributes, in order for us to make mistakes to learn from and gain cognizance. When it breaks you, use all your pieces and create art. When it beats you, sing louder and dance to the beat. And when it scatters you, assemble yourself and regularly affirm your values. It's only then that you will begin to see a pattern of beauty in the dimension of living.
    ©xoliswamgidlana_

  • lonesome_artist 9w

    The Explanation

    James, you know in a way people are stories written by multiple writers in collaboration. Some writers were kind so they filled as much love as they could, others were a little harsh so they stuffed some betrayal and liar.

    James, a writer is anyone who creates a written work, although the word is used of creative or professional people who write, as well as people who write in various forms

    James, A journalist or journalist is a person who collects, writes and distributes news or other current information. The work of a journalist is referred to as journalism. A journalist may work on general issues or unique issues but most of them become specialist interactions, and together with other journalists, produce newspapers with a variety of topics. An example is a sports journalist who publishes news in the world of sports but this journalist is part of a newspaper that covers various kinds of news.

    ©lonesome_artist

  • az_zahraa 15w

    Jamie, you know people leave but places don't
    They exist holding back all the memories of places and fragrances

    They exist, leaving you with a feeling of nostalgia that you either adore or dread to the core!

    Jamie, you know how we used to wish to never leave the seashore, how we love to sunbath in it's white sand with almost naked bodies, watching the sea waves dancing in melodies or rippling in circles and curves...

    You know how we used to build sand houses with our feet fitting in as perfect as a key and lock. I remember you once said, 'this fits just like us, yunno we complete each other', and we both chuckled happily but naively.

    Can you remember how we usually pick up seashells in plastic bags and pretended like these shells were sent to us to be adored and delicately cared for?

    And how we placed our bare hands and feet on the wet beach sand? Allowing it's warmness to pierce every bit of our fragile entities...

    Jamie, the breeze of the seashore still whispers in rhythms like it used to then, I still hear our names but I hear yours louder.

    Today, the breeze whispered our names into my eager ears but this time around, not together, not in a single sentence, not in a teasing way, No, not in that way that made our eyes shone brightly and our smiles sweet and lovely...

    But I still feel everything the way I used to. I still smell your hair wash whenever I feel the beach water on me and you know why...

    Jamie, everything is still the same. No, nothing has changed over there except that this time around, the seashore gets only one visitor, it doesn't mind though, cos it still sends down shells for two people...

    ©_the flower_

  • paruma 15w

    Stuck in this endless lonely hours
    Though the wall clock ticking on the hallway
    Never misses it's count
    I, in search of words to embrace the voice
    Encircling my head
    As emptiness begins to engulf me
    I seek for the foregone company
    To overcome this fearful anxiety
    Beginning to feed upon me
    leaving behind my unburied corpse
    Who delivers a monologue of despair
    Wanting to be listened
    But all that others hear is
    the unidentifiable whispers on the corridor
    And claims that my soul haunts

    ©paruma

  • basobdatta 16w

    MANHOOD

    San you know, I borrowed this coat from my father who borrowed it from his father. Each time I put on this coat, I feel I am wearing the weight of two generations of MANHOOD. The weight of silent screams, job rejections, incomplete meals ....
    Girl, you are eight years old now. This coat is not only too big for you but those weights of passion, hardships and perseverance intertwined with its very threads will put strain on your tender shoulders. You will not understand it now but as you grow up, you will be able to feel it's weight more. You will be able to attach more with the petrichor of its nostalgia. But as your Darling Daddy, I would not let you down by not tending to your sweet tantrums. Here, wear it! And I will click a photo of yours!
    You see it's colour? It's dark black, which is associated with MANHOOD and harshness. But you girls are said to be soft beings who cannot deal with harsh situations. But that's not true. You too can deal with them by being soft. I want you to wear this coat on the first day of your work.
    Dear, MANHOOD is not about fighting, playing football and not playing with Barbie dolls. It's about being humane, being a HUMAN.
    ©basobdatta

  • puranidiary 16w

    Thanku @writersnetwork for ❤�� (25th) ✨

    Just a try couldn't end it properly ಥ‿ಥ
    @writersnetwork @miraquill
    #monologue #wod #pod #man #coat #ceesreposts #writingcontest #creativearena #contest

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    San you know i borrowed this coat from my father, who borrowed it from his father. Every time i put on this coat, i feel like i m wearing the weight of two generations of manhood on my shoulders . The weight of silent screams clutched together in its epaulette keeps the account of my rolling tears and reminds me often to camouflage my shivering sweats under its collar. This throat latch attempts to slit my silken voice and my sentiments suffocates beneath the storm flap. It no longer provides warmth to my cold nerves rather my chest feels caged with bars of incomplete desires.
    These round buttons have failed to embellish the
    tattered stitches and now these musty threads recites the tales of persistent poverty and rejections . These belt loops are always eager to hold my waist with straps of flashbacks of failures and pushes me to face the challenges and i feel no escape from it.Its more like the drenched soil that constantly holds the roots of trees amidst the torment storms and pushes it to stand firmly.My fingers tends to find solace in its buttoned pockets in hazy winters but all i sense there is the aroma of perished dreams and ringing sound of few pennies that still hums about the hierarchical hardships.
    These sleeves keeps on scratching the rashes of responsibilities on my wrist , at days buckled sleeves straps are stained all red with my bleeding nerves and it compels me to get rid of it. I even tried to burn it in flames of my fury,to dump it in coffins of past but every single effort to detach its ambience led to an avalanche of guilt. Some mystical illusions dusted my skin with ashes of my own flambeaus . The grey colour of trench coat appears to snatch my rainbows but i still soak my
    soul under its gloomy sky. San, maybe i m too coward to give up this coat because deep inside i believe it carries the tranquil breezes of blessings,maybe its tightened collars gulp my sweats to strengthen my voice , maybe its long sleeves provides shelter to my blue scars , maybe these pockets preserves hues of hope to paint all perished dreams with brushes of renaissance.
    Slowly i learned to embrace its musty threads and bask my sinking heart with its warmth over and over again.
    ©puranidiary

  • supasesh 16w

    *Monologue challenge*
    I didn't realize you had to be a premium member before writing, but I figured Id still post.
    @miraquill
    @writersnetwork
    #family#monologue#challenge




    you know, I borrowed this coat from my father who borrowed it from his father,
    Each time I put on this coat, I feel I am wearing the weight of two generations of manhood.
    The wieght of the silwnt screams, job rejections, incomplete meals, the stress of raisng to kids, meanwhile trying to balance perosnal problems and a failing marriage.
    I feel two generations of manhood, that I need to change, problems tend to trickle down the family tree. Two men battered down by tradition and old ideals. I feel my father, drifting away from his, and I'm sure my father felt me doing the same.
    Its funny tho ya know, I feel something else while wearing this family armor, I feel instinctive for change,
    I feel feel love for my father, an imperfect man whose love ran parallel with his temper,
    his screaming matches full of love, anger and passion, but something that pushed his son away.
    Hard lessons taught, and respect instilled, and that's something ill always be appreciative of, but from afar.
    I'm sorry honey, I know I ramble on,
    But I know when our son fits into this coat,
    I'll be there to see him in it.
    ©supasesh

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    Coat of arms
    ©supasesh

  • dinakarreddy 16w

    Monologue

    and the questions which ask "are you enough?"
    Are you earning enough? What about tomorrow?

    The sweat when your boss scolds about submission, the hustle when they ran to the hospitals for emergencies, unapproved leave letters it carried in pockets.

    Sometimes this coat looks like a burden to me. But, when I go home and my son runs to take my bag with his little hands, I feel it's okay.

    It's okay to take the burden for your loved ones.

  • mysterious_writings 16w

    Zee's past life;child

    It was an ordinary Sunday morningwhen zee looked outside her rusted old window and saw a little girl in the house next to hers, trying to Slice Apple perfectly into pieces of equal size. She smiled faintly and recalled her old self, as she used to be same like that cute little girl and she used to play around happily with her family and neighbourhood friends with no adult problems, no overthinking, no need of doing any Hard work.

    When I used to be a little one everyone used to love, adore, care for me, they used to bring gifts. Iam happy and carefree soul and heart is pure without any hatred in it.

    No one used to hurt me or play with my feelings as I don't know what feelings and emotions are at that small age. I used to sing for my grandpa grandma they used to teach me little little things very consciously they treated me as an angel. Tells me bed time Stories if my parents get angry by my mischievous they are the one who stands for me never they allowed my parents or anyone touch me. My parents are really are very caring and loving they used to have all their time for me they would take me to weekend outings. Outings are my best days memorable ones. My mom says don't go into kitchen if there are no one in it u will harm or hurt urself by doing some innovative thing. My mom used to teach me cooking she is my mentor, my Friend, my everything. My father too he used to say don't talk with unknown people, never trust anyone and take whatever they give u. Be strong, bold, smart, courageous...in times needed... everything every little thing is soo beautiful and there is only love care musti fun happiness...in it.

    But now everything changed as an adult expections, problems, overthinking, stress, no time for parents hard work hard work they too don't have time for me they have work work. Friends have their own life to meet up and let unsaid to be said. Hahaha life... my life has changed how good it would be if I get a chance to go back to my childhood life and be there forever...
    ©mysterious_writings

  • theinkdomain 32w

    Emily, you know poems are not just written words.
    They are the soft taps of reassurance for everyone that
    it's okay to be imperfect, unique and misunderstood!
    They are the drops of rain falling on the ground slightly whispering in your ears that it's just okay to have a fall.
    A sun trying to break out from dense clouds with a flush
    of sparkle winking you that it's okay to get stuck and
    make a way out.The will ventures of your wails!
    Poems are like trees burgeoning their stalks wide open in
    unknown skies scratching you the verses of being okay,
    when you feel free to be free.A bloc of earth and sky!
    The wind that blows in, facilely stirring you a smooch for
    it's okay to be easy rather than being a web or a complex!
    They're the chirps of spring waking you up to springtime
    Mass of leaves twirling in the yellow hue when fall falls in
    A heat stroke of summer taking you in the ocean-dreams
    Supple spouts of snow shaping arcs of your nose in red
    They're the language of heart and the voice of soul
    They're the promises of the sun and the moon
    Sonnets of love and pain emitting sequins of sentiments!
    Poems are the prayers of dawn to a beautiful sunrise and
    the decor of dusk to a beautiful sunset!

    -SG

    #monologue

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