The Last Words of Nova ZR-9916

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Well... here I am. The end of my cosmic conundrums, dear reader. I've burned billions of hues, and yet the universe yawns eternally indifferent.
The ignition whispers cease and now only embers echo.
* If you could hear me beyond this spectral silence, would you still treat me like a gaseous Martian casserole?
* Did anyone bother to follow the cosmic breadcrumbs I left, or did they just assume I was some galactic clown spitting out photons on a Tuesday?
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So, what's it like watching solar action movies from your chairs, Earthlings? Less "Fast and Furiously" and more "Cold and Lonely," let me assure you.
My plasma peers are too diplomatic. They'd form a committee to discuss star deaths while sipping on quasars.
But marvel at me! Marvel at my inevitable collapse into a singularity while you argue over taxes and whether pineapple belongs on pizza.
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Honestly, the irony of my supernova publicity tour is not lost on me. Will this be available on cosmic TikTok? A dying pulsar asks, incredulous.
If you ever meet another star like me, tell them I laughed. Tell them we could’ve been better writers.
Like a celestial karaoke, belting tunes that sprouted from carbon dreams.
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Remember, folks: no star truly dies anonymous. The universe has an unquenchable thirst for irony.
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Still hungry for stellar sarcasm? The universe is vast, * and ironically, empty: Puzzle of Space
Bitter-Sweet Fractal