I'm getting into my want-to-live-in-a-forest-with-a-typewriter-and-unlimited-supply-of-tea mood.
Mon would live across the lake and I would complain that she's too loud playing on her seadoo.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night; Take these broken wings and learn to fly; All your life, You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
1 comment:
y'welcome, and happy belated
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