Lucy | she/her | history student | literature enthusiast
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Photos from a walk in Durham.
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I think my life would be infinitely better if I lived by swimable water. I live by the river and I got drunk and went skinny dipping in it with a friend but then I spent the entire next day being violently ill.

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Jokes on you I can't take ibuprofen bc it fucks with my anti-depressants. Guess I'll continue being a wasteland
you are not a wasteland you just need ibuprofen and a hot bath and a shower and a nutritious meal and some water and some fresh air and to do something productive and to do something creative and to do something that takes physical exertion and to do something social
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Honestly it boils down to reparenting yourself & rewiring your own neuronal pathways & telling yourself a firm “stop” when you notice your mind slipping down negative loopholes & being present in the moment & enjoying being mid task rather than waiting for it to end & not thinking of inertia as your baseline and natural way of living
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one of the saddest things is when someone in your family tells you you would've loved someone who died before you were born. like my mother has told me & my best friend that we would have loved talking to her father. that me & my brothers have the same humor as our late uncle & even look like him. everyone is everywhere & nowhere & here & gone & dying & coming back. it's as though you know them through their shadow or their ghost or your own actions, but you won't ever really know. haunts me, i guess
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the parasocial relationship between you and the guy whose article you cite the most in your paper
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she let me hit cause i support my public library
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Before i can do this small task i have to drink a coffee then play on my phone for an hour then jerk off then drink a soda then play on my phone then eat a snack then play on my phone then take a nap then play on my phone then go to bed
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A magpie standing next to an ink pot on a table inside a house in Kent. Photographed by John Gay Date range: 1955-1959.
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adulthood is all about fighting for your life to meet up with your friends at a scheduled time
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One day you think: I want to die. And then you think, very quietly, actually I want a coffee. I want a nap. A sandwich. A book. And I want to die turns day by day into I want to go home, I want to walk in the woods, I want to see my friends, I want to sit in the sun. I want a cleaner room, I want a better job, I want to live somewhere else, I want to live.
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I honestly don’t do heavy introspection anymore I just go “huh my hormones are acting up” whenever I feel an unusual amount of human emotion about something and call it a day
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in her introduction to albert camus & maria casarès’ correspondence, catherine camus wrote that their letters made the earth larger, space brighter and the air lighter just for having existed. & in one of his last letters, camus wrote that a single heart had beaten within them so that it would still be heard in the mystery of the world even after both of them had vanished
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