Maybe putting a spark of love into my life really got me into the beautiful woosh of writing about it. It's like a niche I can't hang onto long enough to get a long enough post of it out. But that's all that consumes my journals. The feelings evoke such…
Maybe putting a spark of love into my life really got me into the beautiful woosh of writing about it. It's like a niche I can't hang onto long enough to get a long enough post of it out. But that's all that consumes my journals. The feelings evoke such a complete; even though I know I already am- without a spark or an old flame or fire at my fingertips. I just love falling into it, backwards with my face turned towards all the words that I can keep up with. It's a wonderful feeling really. Like I'm losing myself, in the best place I know. My heart.
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