And in the end, we become strangers with memories.
What if God was one of us, just a stranger on a bus?
Like a not-so-friendly ghost.
You never know of the good times that await.
Nothing more, nothing less.
You know yourself when you travel.
Two people who were once very close can without blame
I Have The Potential To Be An Extremely Horrible Human Being
People Wonder Why I Give So Many Compliments Out To Strangers