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Kentucky, you’re strange.
Since I’ve crossed the state line, Kentucky’s fed me a steady diet of weirdness.
Please, take that as the highest of compliments.
I distrust normalcy, though I’ve spent the better part of two decades striving for it.
Perfectly hand-drawn circles.
A flawless driver’s license photo.
Walking and talking at the same time.
I’ve concluded that these impossible feats must be symptomatic of the insane.
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