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Growing Apart

You keep saying all the wrong things
You keep forgetting what you really want
And you rush headlong to winter
Where it’s cold and pretty
And pretty cold

** This was written in the pocket notebook I carry around, wherever I go — office, a fastfood joint, under the sea, down the rabbit hole, to the North Pole to visit Santa. These lines just leaped out of my head while listening to a couple of songs in Grooveshark.


About Anna

Awed/delighted/floored with anything horror. Indulges in chocolates, blogging, writing, and reading. Attracted to the offbeat and the quirky / the odd and the strange / the weird and the eerie.


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