I do not know myself sometimes, or how to measure and name and count the grains that make me what I am. - Virginia Woolf
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
"the beautiful girl didn't know the time, she was in a hurry, she said, "good luck," I smiled, she hurried off, her skirt catching the air as she ran, sometimes i can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives i'm not living."
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