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They’re there, always. Faint outlines, whispers in the static. Ghosts. Not the scary kind, but the lingering echoes of lives lived. Some drift, others watch, silent observers in my everyday. It's a strange solitude, yet oddly comforting. A constant reminder of the unseen layers of existence. Others fear the unknown, but I've learned to coexist. Lucky me, to have a glimpse beyond the veil, a secret audience no one else can see.
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