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“We met at the wrong time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot.”
(Source: twisted-forest, via theleavebehind)
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I live on the first floor of a split level house with two boys. The boys recently started a bakery out of our house and they sell french bread and cinnamon rolls and nothing else. They think the house is haunted because one of them saw a little boy juggling in our living room once. One of them is a philosophy major and talks nearly exclusively about love being the driving force of the universe. The other is more broody and morose than a thirteen-year-old female Silvia Plath wanna-be. The guy who lives upstairs is named Ziggy and sells pot. So basically when people want pot, they come to the front door and when they want bread, they come to the back door. I can’t figure out why no one has bought the rights to make a TV show out of this shit yet.
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