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mediocre-existexnse · 3 years
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mediocre-existexnse · 3 years
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mediocre-existexnse · 3 years
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mediocre-existexnse · 3 years
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mediocre-existexnse · 3 years
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CLICK HERE
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mediocre-existexnse · 3 years
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mediocre-existexnse · 4 years
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addiction it is.
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mediocre-existexnse · 4 years
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“There are people we meet in life who miss being important to us by inches, days, or heartbeats. Another place or time or a different emotional frame of mind and we would willingly fall into their arms; gladly take up their challenge or invitation. But as it is, we encounter them when we are discontent or content and they are not. Whatever they are, we are not and vice versa. Two trains going in different directions that pass for a few powerful moments at full speed, blasting noise and wind but then they are gone. Whatever serious chemistry might have been possible if, isn’t.”
— Jonathon Carroll
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mediocre-existexnse · 4 years
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I hate the fact that I relate so much to this post
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mediocre-existexnse · 4 years
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When life throws you a life but you are simply incapable of taking it ...
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mediocre-existexnse · 4 years
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To whom do I owe the biggest apology? No one's been crueller than I've been to me.
— Alanis Morissette, "Sorry to Myself", Under Rug Swept
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mediocre-existexnse · 4 years
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mediocre-existexnse · 5 years
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When does it end
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mediocre-existexnse · 5 years
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What do you do when the urge to die only gets stronger as the days pass?
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mediocre-existexnse · 5 years
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Tomorrow.
Tommorow, I'll be strong.
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mediocre-existexnse · 5 years
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And when I feel like the air isn't sufficient and I can't breathe through my nose, I make cuts on my skin. They work like the gills. Gills of a fish. They help me breathe.
It is fascinating. The moment the blood oozes out from my skin, I forget everything. There are no thoughts in mind. Everything is empty and calm and serene. Just the way I like it. It doesn't last though. I wish it did. The blood clots and prickle of pain stops and everything I tried to forget rushes in. And just like that, I am back to where I started. Struggling. Suffering. Surviving. But barely.
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mediocre-existexnse · 5 years
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Sometimes, wanting to die isn't an intense feeling anymore like it always was.
It's often more of a constant. Ingrained. Automatic.
I'm used to it and in a way I've acclimated to it.
It's always there, at the back of my mind or an afterthought.
It's always there, waiting to be triggered by moments and time and things and people.
I've felt it so often, so much, that sometimes it's so dulled.
So dulled, yet so connected, so present.
Always suicidal.
26.08.19
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