The idea is not casual sex with people but with identities.
Amy - one, amidst the zillion nick names I happened to gather like muck sticking to a wet tennis ball bounced countless times on a badly maintained clay court.
As I listen to Back to Black by Amy Winehouse, I resettle the idea of being Amy. I like the song.
People should never meet authors and other creative people they admire. It pains to see artificial intelligence, sometimes. My statement has nothing to do with Amy (Winehouse) though.
Do names really have meanings in the greater connotation of galactic existence?
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