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Writer's pictureKharese

Welcome! Welcome! A Great Point of Progress!


Hi! Heisboro here! Love, Charese Cochran!


Hi Girls!


Gnostic love & Respect! The love of my heart. The love of my soul. It emboss's elegantly atop the pink mushroom for which I sit, perched and amazing loraxed. Cross pot in between two mega loves, dears... my new generational writings or a look back into further past uburgundies. Lore for the Amphra, The Newton. A la Hermosa, la Gretchen, or le Pegasus y Winnie. What makes my heart soar above the city skyline? A temperance usually counted upon lacross nail bed, or signature icecream. A Yellowstone Bear's Cubby.


What does loving friendship mean to me? It is a time of non-chalence. A rumour of moist chocolate cake. Fits and daisies, and some form of advil in my system. Lock and key lyrical merchandising was quite fun. LOVE> Jamais Vu, in pure English form. Weis hammer knew the biggest wins were little ones. The Run. Scoring love in a glass bottle to journey the stars. Of which, the brightest beamed my window every night. Lore above Lore. Tremendous Skylet, lone bech. A BECKINGSALE, how pretty. A step closer to my perennial garden. And alas, I am home in 10 months. A track record I never saw coming, what great strides spark projections of understudy rose. Yet, from afar I tredle my feet beneath my solid, one room, one office, desk, and close the pariah.


I don't know. I mean, 'What's it to ya if I don't know when to put the last muffin down my throat?' I'm learning. I'm gaining life experience in a sub bie shell. Barocks. Cantor. How does it go< To each its own, and to its own, each> far greater experience than a shelled cat. Perhaps, a go? Ha!


And, with more or less chest, I parchment a night of lore. Hugareet. Hugareet, and its 3 disciples are new oslic arrangements of thought. Korvech. Branch beer.


Love,

xoxoxoxoxo,

Kharese

Charese Cochran





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