Just made a big bowl of comforting tomato soup with grilled cheese. Perfect for a rainy day like today. So simple, yet so satisfying.

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Footprints fading into the weight of the past

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Why does this feel like the last thing you see in a dream? ��

This was less of a message, more of a moment.

That crooked house? Yeah, it dreams of the past.

This makes me want to write letters I’ll never send.

Is it strange that this feels familiar in the loneliest way?