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There’s only one thing that could make me feel as free as an 8-year-old with a new bike.
Only one thing that can recall the days of freedom, sweet freedom. Days of, who cares if I don’t have a ride to the pool or to Bryan’s house to jump on the trampoline. That’s allright, I’m mobile. I’m free to go anywhere I want in the whole world whenever I want, provided my mom lets me and it’s within five miles.
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