Hopefully only occasionally
April 29, 2014 @ 2:50 a.m.
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We are all starved for contact. The real kind. The one that is remembered and becomes an anecdote to fill the empty nights. The one that finds hello inconsequential and never says goodbye. Why bother, when there are stories? Shared stories are bigger than greetings; swell more than the heart. Because what are we looking for but to tangle our lives and then have the luxury to say, you are here, and I know it

Or the luxury to later complain about it.


We are all hungry. Are we not?
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