No one has imagined us. We want to live like trees,sycamores blazing through the sulfuric air,dappled with scars, still exuberantly budding,our animal passion rooted in the city.
You had to be willing to fight in order for a love story to last a life time.
Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.
Julie Anne Peters
The single best thing about coming out of the closet is that nobody can insult you by telling you what you've just told them.
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