Do you know what happens in 100 days? Your life happens. And that is everything. 100 days ago, I believed red sparkly shoes and take me home mantras could send you to Kansas, I’ve always believed that, but there is no language that can vocalize what bubbles have floated down, melted away, and manifested. I am
More30, doomsday. I’m not 30, so I can still talk shit about them. No one wants to turn 30 and even with all the filters/emojis/hashtags you use, followers you have, and even with all botox in the world. 30 is NOT the new 20. What is it about the number 30? Does something un-magically mundane
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