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That moment when foggy patches on the mirror slowly dissolve into one clear portrait of a man. Those brown eyes stare with no answer. A face that once had so much promise. And in the banal ritual and the mundane existence comes an interruption. A speck of sound. Led by a visionary being. Maybe a pathfinder. An inspiration to step out from an overbearing steam filled room, into crisp cool air. To get it done. To write about mistakes made. Or a heavy storm outside that should weigh you down, but instead ignites a fire. All thoughts unclouded. For now.