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Isn’t it lonely, my dear, that moment, when a self is born? But wait, don’t dead dragons go to heaven? Flirty dragons never forget to take their shoes off before stepping into the sky, before dreaming and cuddling in sweaty clouds of Venice or tear-stained overcasts of St.Petersburg. And furthermore: dragons don’t believe that togetherness is measured out in victims, sacrifices and, eventually, also pain…

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