▛▘▖ ▚▝▜▜ ▛▘▖ ▚▝▜▜ ▛▘▖ ▚▝▜▜ ▛▘▖ ▚▝▜▜ ▛▘▖ ▚▝▜▜
▞▞▛ ▚▙▜▙ ▗▟▙ ▝▘▖▟▛▗▜▘ ▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▟▚▙▙▘ ▛ ▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▟▚▙▙▘ ▛
▗▜▘ ▗▙ ▝▘▖▟▛▗▜▘▗▜▗▘ ▞▟▛▗▜ ▗▜▗ ▘▞▟▛▗▜▘▗▜▗▘▞ ▘▗▜▗ ▘▞▟▛▗▜▘▗▜▗▘▞▟▛▗▜▘▗▜▗ ▘▞▟▛▗▜▘
▛▙▘▖ ▜▞▘▗ ▜▟▚▟ ▗▞▞▛ ▚▙▜▙ ▗▟
▟▛▝ ▝▘▗▖ ▞▜▞▘▖ ▞▜▞▘▖ ▞▜▞▘▖ ▞▜▞▘
Lost in prisms, lost on that long rush; pulled apart, like the threads of their own story.
▞ ▝▖▙ ▛▙▛▞ ▚▛▟▜ ▝▛▘▖ ▚▝▜▜ ▛▝▜
▙ ▝▜▚▖ ▟▖▟▛ ▟▟▜ ▚▝▚▟ ▝▝▝▖ ▛▜▗▙ ▜▟▚▞ ▝▜▘▚ ▜▟▝▖ ▘▞▖▙ ▗▚▖▝ ▗▚▙▘ ▜▝▟▝ ▞▝▞▞ ▞▟▜ ▛▟▛▙ ▞▝▛▖ ▟▞▖▗ ▛▞▘ ▝▟▖▙ ▜▚▘▝ ▗▟▗▙ ▗▜▗▘ ▙▟▙▛ ▙▖▙▖ ▝▖▛▗ ▙▜▚▝ ▜▖▛▟ ▗▖▟▞ ▘▞▜▟ ▝▙▞▞ ▙▜▞▚ ▚▘▙▖ ▞▟▖▟ ▞▟▘▚ ▘▗▚▘ ▞▗▜▟ ▘▗▗▛ ▞▗▗ ▜▘▞▗ ▟▜▚▛ ▛▙▙▗ ▝▝ ▞▚▗▟ ▝▞▟▞ ▘▚▞▟ ▚▗▖▖ ▟▝▘▙ ▝▞▙▙ ▚▞▚▖ ▙▚▖▚ ▝▖▚▝ ▛▘▝▞ ▘▘▖▟ ▟▞▗ ▛
they aren't real colors???
▟▚▙▙▘ ▛▗▜▘ ▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▙ ▝▘▖▟▛▗▜▘ ▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▙ ▝▘▖▟▛▗▜▘ ▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▙ ▝▘▖▟▚▞▙
▜▘▘ ▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▙ ▝▘▖▟ why not ▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▙
▗▜▗ ▗▜▗ ▗▜▗ ?? ▗▜▗
▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▙ ▝▘▖▟▚▙▙▘ ▛▗▜▘▜▖▛ ▟▜▝▘ ▞▜▞▘ ▚▗▛▗ ▗▛▜▛ ▙▖▗ ▚▝▚▞ ▚▙▙▜ ▙▘▟ ▝▗▚ ▛▙▛▘ ▙▘▜▝ ▛▚▞▘ ▜▘▟▞ ▛▙▟▛ ▙▗▚▟ ▟▞▞▛ ▙▗▚▙ ▜▚▜▚ ▟▙▛ ▛▟▟▗ ▘▛▟▛ ▙▜▚▙ ▚▜▞▖ ▚▚▚▛ ▘▘▜▛ ▟▛▗▝ ▗▞▖▟ ▜▜▙▗ ▜▛▗▖ ▘ ▛▙▙ ▞▚▘▝ ▞▘▘▜ ▙▟▟▖ ▞▗▘▜ ▗▚▝▞ ▟▘▟▜ ▘▝▝▟ ▛▜▚▖ ▜▜▖ ▜▜▝▞ ▞▖▙▜ ▞▛▛▘ ▟▚▝▛ ▟▚▛▗ ▞▝▟▗ ▟▖▝▘ ▞▟▖▞ ▚▝▙▘ ▛▝▟▚ ▗▘▚▝ ▙▗▜▛ ▞▜▚▗ ▗▛ ▗▛▘ ▝▛▜▙ ▘▙▟▝ ▘▜▙▞ ▘▛▘▛ ▚▙▘▖ ▝▟▜▝ ▚▛▗▘ ▛▜▟▙ ▚▚▗ ▗▜▗▘ ▞▚▞▙ ▝▘▖▟▖ ▘ ▛▙▙ ▞▚▘▝ ▞▘▘▜ ▙▟▛▘▛ ▚▙
return to goodbye strangers / return to previous page