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The Lonely-Hearts-Club Tango Binge, or, Karenina’s Dopamine

Tango was a great distraction.

Maybe I was addicted to the dopamine rush. Tango made me buzz. I could feel my vibration rise when I danced; I’d return late at night, and lie wide awake in bed. 

I had danced tango four nights in a row because

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BIO1, Palermo Art Gallery, Contemporary Argentine Art

Life, Death, and Dream Analysis

By Vivi Rathbone.

My eyelids were heavy from the strain of a full day of computer work, but I sat down at my desk again with the intention to write.  I started writing a letter to my father.

Dear Dad;

What happens when you die?  This is the question

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