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i don’t usually ‘feel’ my heart, it’s there, beating, I know it’s there, but I don’t always feel it. But when it dawns on me, that he doesn’t love me, that he’s not with me, I feel it. An ever present ache, every beat crescendoing into spasms of dull pain and I want to rip it out of my chest and go back to nothing. Feel nothing. Think nothing. Know nothing.
Soul Scribblings
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WATERCOLOR PAINTINGS BY Marlies Merk Najaka
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Lea Seydoux by Alasdair McLellan for Vogue Paris, December 2020.
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I’ve never been more equiped for a grand adventure than I am right now. Yet complications still arise. The trick is to reinvent hurdles as mere bumps on the road to contentment. As much as I’d prefer an effortless ‘swoosh’ to the top, minor sacrifices and major losses will add concrete to my spiritual spine.
I’m treating each day as a potential leap of faith rather than a trial to endure.
Soul Scribblings
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