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"Whistling in the dark"
There didn’t seem to be any logic behind who we turned out to be. None at all.
But, see, it’s not where I come from that matters—it’s where I’m going.”
When is the right time for anything? Who knows? Living is an art, not a science.
Life wasn’t always about deserve. That much I knew.
Leaves were always graceful as they floated away from the tree.
suppose I will have to learn to bend to the inexplicable logic of my life.
