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June 24, 2001
watched my hero do what she does best tonight, in a crowd full of faces assured that they love her the most. Looking around, I could only shake my head at the undeniable truth--she speaks to no one else as she speaks to me--before catching myself at my audacity. Who the fuck am I to place myself above their respect, to quantify this adoration and judge its weight with the scale of my own hands? Isn't the point, then, for us all to love wholly and well, us all to dance to the music, us all to sing along?