[ Strung up in a spiderweb canopy above the carnival, lights in green-gold- and reds illuminate the night softly. Ferris wheel cars, also dressed in lights, rock gently with a passing balmy gust, as dingy carousel ponies rest silently in the corner of the video. Tents and caravans dot the carnivale ground.
(
Welcome to the Carnivale, my friends. )
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Now, is burning yourself the answer?
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Don't know what you're talkin' about.
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Alright. You know, smoking is bad for you.
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One smoke ain't gonna kill me.
[ ... especially in the 1930s. ]
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You don't looks so good, do you need help?
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So he's actually going to make some effort.
Dressed in a pair of jeans and his favorite leather jacket, he's happy for the night that hides the dark circles under his eyes. He walks into the carnival, slowly, just looking for Ben. Can't hide forever.]
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He likely won't sense Alex whenever he finds him, rendered shaky and distracted by insomnia. ]
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We all live in dreams.
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Nah, there's reality. And there's dreams.
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[Dreams built themselves out of reality, could invade it too. So, truly, what was there to differentiate.]
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