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24 Jan 12 at 12 am

Elizabeth Bones

"I miss the cold wicker air and the breathlessness of people walking by, always walking by, never touching. I miss the feeling of being lost in a city so large, but strong and big in a section so small. I miss staring out of trains and speaking in existential tongues. I miss knowing exactly where I was going, only to get off at my stop and realize I still am, and always will be, totally lost."

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