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I know you get bored, but fear the sudden changing of the current. I know you feel sore, but always hold so tightly to your burdens. Did I lose your trust? Did I ever have it to begin? It's not a rush if my wheels forever spin. Let's start again. I know you like to talk, but never can you find the time to listen. What happens to the work I did if no one ever finds the good in it?