I miss my friends, I miss my family, I miss open hearts, I miss people who understand me. NYC you have been testing me for months, I love and hate you for it. Sometimes you make you me cry. I certainly don't understand much about life or love lately but here's hoping something shifts...
This is my diary, my personal museum, a collection of images, sounds and thoughts that move me, that feed me, that explain who I am and contribute to what I hope to become. If my mind were a room these would be the artifacts found within.
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