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Crash

I long for explosions, and outburst and shouting and screaming, for action and misjudgement and energy. I fear the quiet, the lost thoughts and words never spoken. An end, sharp and brutal is more appealing than a single tone filtering off to eventual nothingness. A sense of staleness and routine can too easily envelope people, leaving nothing but empty spaces and nothing to fill them with. Give me a Crescendo over a fade out anyday.

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