I spent the last night of my summer with my back clinging to a rooftop in Tennesee, wine in my hand, and a meteor shower above me; good jazz around me
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I don't have my school schedule yet, and I couldn't be happier about it. Because as soon as that little slip gets mailed to me it means workworkwork and I don't know how to work my lazy bones these days. I just lie around and talk about changing things. big things. and I can't even get outta the bed.
It's hard to write when I'm sliced between the three prettiest girls I've met in a while and we are trying to breathe all at once, crowded in a twin bed and trying to fall asleep in the middle of the day
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