As summer neared, as the evenings lengthened, there came to the wakeful, the hopeful, walking the beach, stirring the pool, imaginations of the strangest kind- of flesh turned to atoms that drove before the wind, of stars flashing in their hearts, of cliff, sea, cloud and sky brought purposely together to assemble outwardly the scattered parts of
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ps virginia woolf reminds me of o'brien.
*hugs* i hope things are going alright, hun. we have to hang out soon.
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