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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRecite to my tale, when the dewfall has come. She puts down on paper a letter, a sentences, nevertheless a phrase. Writing beneath the zephyr’s aurora. Regard towards a captivating evident earth-dweller. Writing isn't straightforward, but it becomes one of her fondness. Draw up her notions into a paper, arrange it beautifully. Sometimes a poem, a rhyme, it can be just a diary too.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAll the sentences that has been arranged into a tale, poem, perhaps just a phrase. Its a feeling, yet a whimsy either. Stumbled by hope, “Je ne peux pas être écrivain, je suis un imbécile”, she said. But she’d never capitulate, she wrote those feelings, those imaginations into her books. You may wanna see her books.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤRecite to my tale, when the dewfall has come. She puts down on paper a letter, a sentences, nevertheless a phrase. Writing beneath the zephyr’s aurora. Regard towards a captivating evident earth-dweller. Writing isn't straightforward, but it becomes one of her fondness. Draw up her notions into a paper, arrange it beautifully. Sometimes a poem, a rhyme, it can be just a diary too.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤAll the sentences that has been arranged into a tale, poem, perhaps just a phrase. Its a feeling, yet a whimsy either. Stumbled by hope, “Je ne peux pas être écrivain, je suis un imbécile”, she said. But she’d never capitulate, she wrote those feelings, those imaginations into her books. You may wanna see her books.