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propaganda i am not falling for:
always moving on. some goodbyes need to rot a little. some griefs need to be held in the mouth like a stone.
beauty defined by algorithms. beauty exists in crow feet and smile lines
pretending to be chill. i’m not chill. i care deeply and inconveniently. i read into things. i write poems about eye contact
beige apartments with no soul. give me bookshelves and incense and loud art
sneaky links and unclear intentions. i want devotion. and also clarity
treating books as decor. read them. dog-ear them. argue with them in the margins
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I do feel like this whole self improvement culture thing can go too far where people are never happy with who they are and where they are because they’re constantly trying to be better or do better and they’re always waiting for some sort of glow up or achievement or therapy realisation that will make them feel complete but that isn’t real and life is actually in the every day
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Casting a spell for the remainder of January and at least the first half of February and the spell is that I get bothered by nothing and I am locked in and nothing gets under my skin and I accept the fact that I can’t control people’s actions but I can control my reaction to them
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in the meantime: study, journal, read more books, sit in silence, listen to music, take walks, take the stairs, do more things alone, do more things with friends, take notice of the small wonders of the world, create a sacred space in your mind
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Come the Slumberless To the Land of Nod, Traci Brimhall
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Nina Mclaughlin, from "Wake, Siren," originally published in November 2019
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forced to say “it’s ok” instead of throwing a chair at them
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