What a joy it
is (can get boundless to be ecstatic for few!) to be level ground players.
The joints of
class one players where everyone basks in the glory of having made it,
subjectivity of having moved mountains (weighed it out!), move to forge ahead.
As a class they are tightly bound, still to ring a bell up there for conditions
to improve comes the role of trolling agencies.
Either they
crumble as a whole {oh! There are these apolitical ones who mind their work
(refugees)} or are nurtured by the higher beings for procreations.
The cult of
traversing social distances for equal exchanges (weighing mountains out) is the
joy of volunteering.
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