“The summer continues to make me wonder. So my head, boiling like a pot, will never cool. With the heat. With the cicadas buzzing. With the twinkling of the myriad stars floating in the sky.”
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“The summer continues to make me wonder. So my head, boiling like a pot, will never cool. With the heat. With the cicadas buzzing. With the twinkling of the myriad stars floating in the sky.”
“To have a name. To remove one layer of the unknown. To be painted in reality. If you have your feet firmly planted to the ground, you may have a chance to pull someone down.”