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the story is in the soil.

keep your ear to the ground.

the blower's daughter.
16 December 1988
External Services:
  • bridget1682@livejournal.com
  • she was disarmed
I like simple things. Your smile, your laugh. Small idiosyncrasies. I feel infinite all the time and I admit it; I'm a dreamer. I'm a sucker for good punctuation, grammar, and obscure one-liners. I don't solve problems, I prolong them. I clench my teeth constantly; lips melted together. Where do I go from here? When do I get the chance to start over?