westcoast

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In California, the purest of the states. I once lived in a city that thought of having tornadoes. Pictures cast in the cafateria wall, pictures of tornadoes. Within first glance, that fear haunts me.
I want to go to a place where the ocean roars. I want to go to a place where you can hear the wind rushing past your ears. I want to go to a place where seagulls soar so low their wings nearly touch the shadows on the sand .
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