i always have the best hair moments right before i crawl into bed, under the covers to impress the world of my dreams. there, things are nice.
"...folk singers sing songs for the workin' baby, we're just recreation for all those doctors and lawyers, and theres no relief for the bleedin heart ... rob says you love love love love and then you die."
remember when we drove all the way to the PCH. then, things were nice.
holding onto the memory of the excitement in my heart for my art history classes, zooming to class in my new corolla, because everything was fine.
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