Whoa

Searching for Learning From the moment I enter I am swallowed, engulfed. I become another pair of shuffling, scuffed feet. But oh, where do my feet take me? Among these cerulean passageways that speak nothing of the sea or the sky. Metallic and hollow, the walls cry the echoes of fity years of students, fifty years in that L-shaped building. L for ludicrous, they might say. L for liquid, languid learning that seeps through brains and lies puddled on the floor, splashed by those flip-flops andSearching for Learning
Timberlands and Vans attached to feet attached to bare legs
Jess
I miss you very muchly.
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~london-paris-tokyo
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your fake plastic love.
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one day the sun will come out
[link]
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Ink runs in my veins.
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