my brother doesn’t get to see his girlfriend that often since they live in different states and I walked in his room and saw this.
ugh this is precious.
I recognized it instantly. It was a made-up story, a fantasy, the tale of four kids who went through a magic wardrobe and found themselves in a strange new world. I’d read it more times than I could remember, and although I sneered at the thought of a magical land with friendly, talking animals, there were times when I wished, in my most secret moments, that I could find a hidden door that would take us allout of this place.
bocio: The anonymous painter / Buenos Aires
i only care about inner beauty
like bone structure