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Sometimes, in the silence of the night, when the lights are off and only the sound of my heart can be heard, I imagine myself living a luxurious life... a house full of light, furniture that is more like a work of art than a means of comfort, unplanned trips with first-class tickets, and clothes that are still in the windows of Parisian fashion houses.
But deep down, I know that luxury is not just about appearance. It is a kind of self-confidence, a sense of security, a peace that comes from within. Sometimes I might want to live a luxurious life, not for the gold and the cars and the brands, but for that feeling that life is always going to be as it should be. 1 reply
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