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𝙹𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝟷, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺, 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝙾𝚏 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊, 𝟷𝟿𝟷𝟺-𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟹
[ID: July 1. Too tired. END ID]
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i be like “whos praying on my downfall” as if i don’t make terrible decisions every other hour of the day
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“you should be the bigger person” absolutely not. i’m cursing his entire bloodline.
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My mental health is just getting worse and worse in all aspects
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I feel numb. No tears, no anger, nothing. Just going through the same day again and again. I would rather just sleep without waking up.
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People who don’t speak. People who live in their heads
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my lifes been over for years but im being really chill about it
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George Seferis, from Collected Poems; "Memory I" (tr. Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard)
[Text ID: I whispered: memory hurts wherever you touch it,]
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trying to break free from the prison that is my brain and live my life to the fullest. but the fears.
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where do you put the emptiness that feels too heavy to carry
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