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  • Nonfiction > Personal Experience
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    “ Mell’ora del dolor perche, perche, Signor, ah, perche, me ne rimuneri cosi?” My heart screamed for air, yet I still couldn’t move to breathe. This is why I sing. This is why I perform. To hear this. Tosca finished her heartbreaking aria and the house roared. Backstage, we, the chorus, eru...

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