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So maybe I am stranded in this icy wasteland...
The air is thin here, but not as thin as the thread that binds me to this place…
There are happy things in this life.
There is a future for us to do with as we please.
Strife is momentary—it's there and then it's gone, and a joyful heart persists.
The wind exists. That can't be changed.
It has power. That can't be changed, either.
But how we let that power affect us...
Welcome
the frozen wasteland awaits
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