Greece, Philosophy, Travel
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When I’m Gone

Sometimes I get asked what it is I am doing, my age gets thrown at me as if everyone has a roadmap of where I should already be. I do not. I keep walking, and stumbling every now and then — and the in betweens, the flickers of what could be great instants are really what I am here for. 

I want to strive to have lived so that when I die my epitaph would read: “Here lies Ivy, she lived, she was a little crazy, a lot weird, did some good, loved till she bled, survived by a great loving family, had a few friends but they were real, saw the world and tasted the world.”
Photo taken in Mykonos, Greece

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