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this pair of old jeans
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
and ever has it been that love knows not its own depth untill the hour of separation.
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About Me
jeannieakajingyi
Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me.
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