It's like all people differ from me,
Everybody speaks a different tongue.
Their words seem so familiar,
But they are odd to be among.
...
Nobody I've met is like me,
Am I alone in this?
Then why does it feel this bliss?
I feel I'm where supposed to be.
...
It's probably in my mind.
...
I am alone.
The community that understands,
It's odd, but at Booksie...
Nobody is from The Netherlands.
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