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whoops lost myself for about eight years there
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propaganda i am not falling for:
always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.
beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines
pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact
beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art
sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity
treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins
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can someone teach me how to be emotionally regulated and not be sensitive or take things personally
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ETHEL CAIN PHOTOGRAPHED BY DOLLIE KYARN
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so what if I want to have total control over every single thing at all times. just let me lol
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