When I’m hungover and listening to Enya, I’m bathed in the light of a momentary reprieve from misery and self-recrimination; I’m not “that chick who got too drunk last night and dry gagged at the bar for 20 straight minutes,” but a beautiful young lass running through a verdant field in a long white gown of Irish linen.
from Vogue https://ift.tt/2VRNEjW
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