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    melodies #6

Then I remember her talking about Africa; about the heat and the colours and the smells; about the crowded busses plastered inside with pictures from porn mags - white women with gaping legs and vacant smiles; about the way the sky changed so quickly it was so hard to trust anything to be real.
I wonder if, wherever you go, a little part of your soul stays there, fragments like broken glass till you’re scattered around the world. It's like subtracting a minus number; you end up gaining. Which leaves me with a peaceful feeling.

 

max ensslin/gordonmcneilage (cc)