So what does one do around here?
I just wanted to be with you
We'll safe that for later then...
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So what does one do around here?
I just wanted to be with you
We'll safe that for later then...
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
There's a Reason for the madness surrounding Charmie. Me, I stay despite of and because of it. For beyond the madness, are the things that matter.
Remember the AHTP Episode when he said this:
"I would love to live in a little house in the middle of nowhere... I am going to...probably Europe, Italy somewhere, just disappear."
Armie Hammer on his podcast
from I Look Divine (Christopher Coe, 1987)
Just finished reading iain pears "parallel lives", a true-life account of the live between two art historians on opposite sides of the Cold War divide. Absolutely wonderful to read; happy ending; and should any #reylo fic writers need an inspiration for something involving #ben solo in a tweed jacket, I can heartily recommend!
Parallel Lives
Neither Urza nor Mishra would admit it, but it was their similarities, rather than their differences, that drove their obsessive rivalry.
Artist: Greg Staples TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Yesterday, while sitting on the loveseat, I was relaxed, when I felt a merging of my energy. I have never had this experience before - I was pulled into a vortex then immediately pushed out. During this time, I caught a glimpse of a parallel life. I have entered this experience, and described what I saw, in my book under today's date.
Why do I feel nostalgia for moments I never lived?
Is my mind borrowing stories from a version of me I’ll never meet?
If so, how many lives am I grieving without even knowing?
And if my body never touched them,
but my soul insists they were mine
which one should I believe?