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I feel like John Henry. That legendary black dude from the west who carved a tunnel through a mountain with his bare hands, and then, his heart exploded. I sometimes wish my heart would explode, then I wouldn't be such a candy-a**. But hey, people like the candy-a**, he's nice, he's polite, and easy to take advantage of. Everybody loves a rainman, and being black piles on. But regardless. Tell me though, is it possible to bridge the chasm between the living and the dead? Later space cowboy. Adieu.