In this essay, we delve into the abyss of human futility, where dreams are like sandcastles in the sand, and our existence is but a mere whisper in the wind.
As we trudge through the mire of our own insignificance, we find that the only constant in life is change. Like a bad haircut, it's always coming for us.
But fear not, dear reader, for in this bleak landscape, there is hope. Or, at the very least, a nice cup of coffee to distract us from our impending doom.
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