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But A Word Stays
Just realized I have - not a large number, but a non-trivial one - of journals on my flist for which the authors are deceased.
It's oddly sobering. At the same time, it's also strangely comforting to see that their words that they sent out into the world are still there, in this small way.
It's oddly sobering. At the same time, it's also strangely comforting to see that their words that they sent out into the world are still there, in this small way.