I am youth of America. Young and fresh, hip and cool.
sometimes spoiled but never fooled.
I am sometimes typical and loud and rude.
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When it rains, it pours someone always says.
Rain brings back plants from the dead.
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My violin and me.Happy as a bee, working together in peace and harmony.My relationship with it is love and hate but the music we make is great. I hold it with a tender touch.
It's brown color and eight- shaped figure rest on my shoulder.
It's long elegent bow lightly strokes the strings.A beautiful meledy plays sweet as honey!
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It hit me like a ton of bricks breaking my head in. We've hit rock bottom.
I don't get along with you and you don't get along with me.
What happened? I just don't get it? it's outrageous!
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I planted a seed and left it there.
I passed it day by day and did not care.
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