We Cross Our Bridges

We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us with nothing to show for our progress except the memory of the smell of smoke and the presumption that once our eyes watered.

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the best part about that is when matt is like “that’s not my fist guitar” in the commentary 

the best part about that is when matt is like “that’s not my fist guitar” in the commentary 

(Source: skyscrapers)

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    the best part about that is when matt is like “that’s...fist guitar” in the commentary
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