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1. I didn't have much to live for to begin with 2. I am shit lol 3. You think I don't give a shit what you two think and feel? Heads up, you have no fucking idea how much it hurts me to see this "family" like this 4. Why do I keep doing this cyclical thing where I breathe and then I have to do things 5. I want to disappear 6. I don't think it would matter very much 7. Not at all probably.
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this is too much.
sometimes i think about how fucking horrible the situation is to begin with, but this just makes it exponentially worse. to be fair, you're the ones who created this wall between us in the first place - children are so very sensitive, so very absorbent of what people put them through. i didnt have a good time at that time. i do not trust you as i used to.
i cant do this.
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All this pressure built up inside of me and now I'm crying for no real reason at all. It's been over an hour and I just can't stop and it doesn't seem like it can end any time soon. I'm so tired. So so tired. And everyday it just gets exponentially worse.
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irony
isn't it crazy how people always yearn for what they seriously cannot have? yet what is best for them is always right in front of them, waiting to be discovered by a stubborn heart?
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rest in peace
it's weird when someone dies, it feels so final yet part of me knows it isn't what is peace? what is death?
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loneliness
loneliness. Such a word is located in dictionaries, yet I feel like no words could describe loneliness. It eats you live, your every fiber fades into meaningless, excruciating strands of nothingness flowing into nothingness until you feel like a sheet of white paper blank empty useless
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uncertainty
It's being pounded into my head in physics. Calculate the uncertainty of the formula if this equals, in plus or minus form. Which lead me to think. Why can't I calculate the uncertainty of my life? Two wrong decisions, plus or minus 5 sets of wasted tears. Three fake smiles, plus or minus 3 genuine laughs. Four songs written, plus or minus 1 other person to write about. Five nights of insomnia, plus or minus 6 hours of sleep at school. One heartbreak, plus or minus 9 levels of mental sanity.
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rain
one word theme inspired by in----bloom -- One habit I've always had is looking through windows. Sometimes, as I glance outside, the sky is a bright azure blue. Clouds line the sky like cotton balls, placed in random disorganized perfection. The grass grows in utter abundance, like stalks of translucent green flame flickering in the sunlight. It pokes through cracks in concrete and even in sides of breaks in old wooden walls, accompanied by muted yellow daisies and an endless amount of ladybugs. Sometimes, as I glance outside, the sky is a pale alabaster. In fact, the entire world is coated in a blanket of ivory, lining the sidewalks, streets, cars, and even passing people. The most beautiful snow is that which is untainted- a perfect white, usually found atop buildings where people cannot step, and ruin the beauty. A murky brown color of footsteps lines the ground, and a spectrum of color of lights are hung from building to building. As beautiful as those days are, my favorite days are when it rains. As I glance outside, the sky is a muted gray upon patches of white. There is a quiet sound... almost as a whisper, raindrops land upon the concrete outside. Transparent crystal orbs travel down my window in packs, towards the destination of my windowpane, in an unending yet futile race. What I love most about the rain is watching people walk outside with their umbrellas. It is almost as if the ground is covered with a rainbow of a plethora of different designs. Purple stripes on pink. Polka dots. Lime green. Plain black. Transparent. Translucent blue. Branded. Kid-sized. From my window from high above, I watch people of all sizes walk together... children with rubber boots up to their knees, business people in suits, worried about getting their pant legs wet. I loved especially to watch couples. He would hold the umbrella, of course. It's almost as if the job was dictated to him automatically. She huddles in close to his open arm, rewarding him warmth for the protection from the harmless, refreshing drops of water falling from the heavens. Rain... why people had such fear of it, I had no understanding. If anything, it did nothing but bring people together. Rain falls in order for grass to grow, for things like beautiful muted yellow daisies to bloom. Rain exists to clean dirty buildings long overdue, and quench the thirst of parched soil. Rain was there, always is, and always will be. Rain existed for nothing but the balance of nature and of the planet. Yet people dislike it. I sighed and pondered upon the rain once again, wishing I had appreciated it more when I could have. The rain reminded me of my father. He was there for me, and always was, and always will be. Although my time with him standing on this planet ended, I remembered fondly how he taught me how to daydream, and showed me the beauty of nature and the world. I remembered arguing with him, telling him how I had no desire for such things. I remembered telling him, windows were nothing but useless, watching things without experiencing them was useless. I remembered, how he was my father. How, like the rain, he existed in my life for balance. How sometimes, simply showing appreciation from afar was good enough. He existed to quench my parched knowledge. ...but as the rain, his time came to a quiet halt. He faded away, slowly, surely, yet it felt sudden all at the same time. And like the rain, I took him for granted. With a small sigh, I shook my head. "You could have told me why you named me Rain instead of leaving me to figure it out myself, you know." ...yet like the rain, I knew he had his reasons.
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