A Thought, Which Is Deep
When we were little, we played dress-up to pretend to be someone we weren’t. As grown-ups, we play dress-up in search of who we are.
Eh? Put THAT in your great American novel.
When we were little, we played dress-up to pretend to be someone we weren’t. As grown-ups, we play dress-up in search of who we are.
Eh? Put THAT in your great American novel.
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I would, but my great american novel is mostly filled with big breasted women and half naked asian men. Hemingway I am not.
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