Beneath my feet a ways down the earth is molten, hot metal that would hurt me to death, but not from hear. Above the clouds a ways is the sun, so hot it would kill me long before I got here.
I'm in the perfect place between impossiblities to walk around and go "hmm. . . ."
I'm in the perfect place between impossiblities to walk around and go "hmm. . . ."
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