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Fabby91 π©β¨ππ΅
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In a small workshop in a forgotten village, there was a box of masks that came to life at nightfall. Each one with a unique personality: the mask of joy danced incessantly, that of sadness cried melodies that turned into rivers, and that of anger, with its internal fire, kept the place warm. β¨β¨β¨
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Jesiigh9.base.eth π©
@jesiigh9
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