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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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Forever feeling too feminine for some and not feminine enough for others 🥲 idk man I just exist
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In between lost and finding myself, learning and unlearning , coping and healing.
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honestly theres always been something really wrong with me but whatever
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yoou guys wont be laughing when i suddenly collapse unconscious and have to be taken to the hospital. then youll all see <- normal thought process to have while doing anything i dont want to
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Just cried because everyone is talking too much and won’t stfu
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yearning for a soft love, something gentle and sweet. Slow mornings filled with tender kisses and bodies tangled under the sheets. breakfast cooked together with laughs and giggles and her smile that is so sweet and perfect. Living together and just having lazy days. Maybe we fight but we figure it out and it's just love.
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women need to get more annoying & meaner & evil. it's good for our society
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there’s something very wrong with me, it’s called ‘I don’t want to do anything, ever’ and they said it’s chronic
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90’s theme shoot #photoshoot #90’s #fine #wlw
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i love tumblr because you see someone losing their mind and you’re just like “omg me tooooo!” *reblog*
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