I sleep well to the point that I began to ask there was just one person who should have touched me last night. I have recently worked out it’s not because I think it. Instead it’s about the fact that it did happen, thinking about a twin.
I fell in love in love once with a man Peter was his name. We was a handsome man. We would talk to each other in the shades of trees all day in the middle of no where. When I think about him is, to know there is more to life. Lots of love Peter.
When people think about writing I have found that I can only get that from Peter. The ability to write freely is the only thing worth fighting for in this lifetime. It is essential to be in the correct living environment when writing. Otherwise one is giving up ones ability to operate correctly and sufficiently.
Love is a really funny thing. You can only talk about and yet never talk about it enough.
I recently got a new typewriter. It’s a Royal typewriter. It’s beautiful. I have spent endless nights awake banging on it.
Just all you see is Gold and Black. You spend the entire night awake holding back the red ribbon on the typewriter. To know to have done that. That I have lived. A wise man once said that. However to have known that it would mean that I can only be a women.
The funniest thing about getting my typewriter “because I know you, Peter”, I know, there is not such thing as using it correctly.
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