Few people craft their family photo albums this way. When parents divorce, we hide away the photos of their early married days. When fathers disappear, we dump their smiling faces into a box in the basement. Rarely do we put the family dinner with our estranged family member next to the one the following year, without them. But two generations down the line, isn’t it the honest edit we’ll crave?
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brb having Isabela feels.
Misanthropic wench kicking at the darkness 'till it bleeds daylight. I take pictures and play ukulele.
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