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when the mood shifts and you feel mildly untouchable / like you can feel bad but not quite sad and are mostly feeling shockingly good and you’re like oh sick i’m going to lose everyone close to me because they will hate me if i’m the me who is happy/relaxed
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it’s half ‘i talk to 2 people and it would
be sad to lose one’ and half ‘we started writing a musical together and i’m worried about making the vibes weird’
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i do NOT listen to rush. i dreamt that i cuddled him and snoozed my alarm to keep dreaming. i don’t know listen to music. i also don’t feel things. ever.
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when you read books at like 16 and the protag has the “loser friend they’ve known forever but kinda hates but can’t stop being friends because of the forever factor but this person is a certifiable Loser” and you’re like man i hope my friends are cool and then you’re in your 20s and you’re like cool! i’m the lowlife!!!!!!!!
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the only unfortunate thing about having irl mutuals is it does make the #sadposting more exposing than you ever really want it to be
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how the absolute FUCK am i supposed to live long and prosper in these conditions
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fuck that The Brutalist movie if you couldn’t just make a biopic for a real jew artist during ww2/1930/40s then like. fuck off don’t make up one
#sincerely someone who’s written essays about multiple jewish modern artists who would be contemporary with the era that movie is set#and like they have great stories and half of the time i mention them no one knows who im talking about#anyways fuck offfff with fake propaganda around historical prejudice there are. so many artists that deserve that limelight and whatever#WHATWVERR
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That 40 min walk to nowhere particular Will save your life
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i was getting ready for another day of assimilation, putting my ocular implant on over my piercing blue orbs. if i had hair it would be long and blonde but i’m a borg drone so i’m bald. just then, the borg queen came in. “pack your things.” she said. “i’ve sold you to pay our debts. meet your new owners, the crew of the uss voyager.”
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heres a poem about the evils of capitalism
theres a monster in my wallet
its green and says twenty
i call it the devil
but you might call it money.
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sometimes you’re like well. time to give all my friends the tools to better themselves so i can believe they’ll be alright if i **** ******
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1 hour. i was ok for like maybe 1 hour!
#its just like. id ont even want to complain who the fuck am i to complain why am i always complaining#and why cant i ever just
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they need to make a mood that doesnt oscillate so wildly every hour that there is no emotion that seems worth it
#sometimes it feels like you get to take your head out of the water and then once you get a breath in youre like wait my fucking head is unde#r the fucking water again#i just simply dont think i get better#maybe it does but i dont!#and mostly im like so why am i depressed? clearly its becasue im an attention whore who should kill himself etc#which is so helpful
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google search how to turn fear and despair into motivation to try hard or something
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