living in a hive where the honey tastes like egyptian licorice and the bees want you to go swimming and pick blueberries every day with them can certainly get to be a habit; despite the mosquitoes i feel less and less inclined to go home. what, after all, could be more homelike than a palatial victorian manor replete with gold and velvet wallpaper
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bella pooped on the carpet and i had to clean it up.
i love you.
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