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Dear unborn child: Climb trees. Play w/ imaginary friends. Make mud pies. Catch fireflies. Jump rope. Roll in grass. Sing nursery rhymes.
i am so inappropriate; it's so appropriate.
"my life isn't what you care about, it's the nature of my death."
i swear, we're soulmates. either that or, you just continually touch my heart… again & again & again… and sh't.
"[She's] better than the girl of my dreams... She's real." -from "(500) Days of Summer"
If you want it, create it.
l o v e + g r a t i t u d e.
the divine reminds: "i run sh't."
humility in flow.
parents do the best they can and sh't.
no, like it's fascinating.
it's happening finally. thank you, universe. thank you human vessels.
work + wait.
i have all necessary resources.
in reality, i want the fantasy. plus, you.
light-working, tree-hugging, spear-holding, dream-catching, bra-burning, hippie love-child©|polyamorous lover of warrior-women|creator.