Covering my ears from my sister's screams because she read that Lyric is watching FMA Brotherhood. Lyka baws.
I'd rather waltz than just walk through the forest. The trees keep the tempo and they sway in time. Quartet of crickets chime in for the chorus. If I were to pluck on your heart strings would you strum on mine?
Edna began to feel like one who awakens gradually out of a dream, a delicious, grotesque, impossible dream, to feel again the realities pressing into her soul. — Kate Chopin, The Awakening
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