Hello I am Abigail...
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"He was alone. He was unheeded, happy, and near to the wild heart of life. He was alone and young and wilful and wildhearted, alone amid a waste of wild air and brackish waters and the seaharvest of shells and tangle and veiled grey sunlight." - James Joyce...
I want a storm to come and flood us into a song that no one wrote. Frida Kahlo, from The Diary Of Frida Kahlo: An Intimate Self-Portrait (via thatkindofwoman)
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