I wish I wrote the way I thought; obsessively, incessantly, with maddening hunger. I'd write to the point of suffocation. I'd write myself into nervous breakdowns, Manuscripts spiraling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing. And i'd write about you a lot more than I should. -Benedict Smith
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Stories by Mihan
Solitude
What does it mean to be solitude?
A short project of how it feels to be a teenage girl.
This doesn't mean sol...
