A shooting star shot across the speckled sky of his technicoloured world. He was dazzled; he was mesmirised; he was taken in. But in that split second before he could wish upon it, a twin star could be seen following in companionable pursuit. He knew then that it was not meant to be. This sprinkled stardust was not meant for him. He just happened to be caught up in this constellation of poetic mess.

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