i always miss you this time of year, when the coreopsis blooms.
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- lizzie bee
- a student of living, magic, inspiration. my wings are wide. wild card inside.
what sort of diary should i like mine to be? something loose-knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace anything, solemn, slight or beautiful, that comes into my mind. i should like it to resemble some deep old desk or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through.
virginia woolf
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