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Don’t struggle so much, the best things happen when not expected.
Gabriel García Márquez (via wordsnquotes)
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.reflectionS
i spent the past two days in my room, reconnecting with my passion, it felt liberating to be able to what makes me feel a sense of purpose and usefulness after moths of feeling empty and useless. noT saying that i haven’t been creating, i just haven’t been creating anything meaningful despite it being honest i felt detached from my art but maybe it’s because i wasn’t attentive to my mental as i initially thought i was. i’M in a good space creatively and when my creativity is fed positively the rest of my being resonates. i know it’s only been two days, but they’ve been an insightful two days and have set the tone for the rest of the month and i want to carry this energy forwarding the year.
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thoughts (i).
it's crazy how you could wake up in the morning, moody, not feeling like doing anything, life drained and irritated, yet conversation with your significant other can bring that life right back into you.
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probably (continued).
but if i do live long to attain some kind of revenue to attain some kind of functional lifestyle, i really just want to disappear and live with my princess on a remote location away from human existence.
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probably.
i’m probably going to end up being one of those “he could’ve been such an amazing artist, we probably should’ve taken him seriously”, i don’t see myself living long enough to wait for people to take me seriously.
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existence is a pointless concept.
Psykotic, the Melancholist.
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have you ever slit your wrists in the shower, gone to your room, yelled into a pillow for hours?
Psykotic, the Melancholist.
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i used to have a voice, until my insecurities stole it from me, these demons speak for me now.
Psykotic, the Melancholist.
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i try close my eyes to get closer to my dreams, but my demons find pleasure in taunting me when i'm vulnerable
Psykotic, the Melancholist.
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overcome and overwhelmed with emotion, yet i feel nothing.
Psykotic, the Melancholist.
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i often get lost in myself, my soul is yearns for a permanent escape.
Psykotic, the Melancholist.
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I have always liked my people a bit damaged. A bit rough around the edges. A bit difficult to stereotype. A bit stranger than the normal crowd. I like people whose eyes tell stories and whose smiles have fought through wars. If you’re perfect, chances are, we aren’t going to get on. If you’re one of the cool kids, chances are, you won’t like me. You see, what I want is authentic. What I want to see is your purity, I want to see the way you wear your scars, I want to see how brave you are with your vulnerability, how emotionally naked do you let the world see you. Your damage may not be beautiful, but it has made you exquisite. It makes you original, different - and one of my kind of people because people like you are the most incredible things about this world.
Nikita Gill (via meanwhilepoetry)
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?
sometimes i think of weird shit, like aliens coming back to take the select few programmed for their amusement, you know?
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you're my inspiration, my muse, my motivation, my pillar, everyday i'm thankful and grateful that you're my Princess, i love you bubs.
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?
the weakened, not weak, are always told about strength when opening up to someone about your inner most problems not knowing that every waking moment shows strength but also makes us weaker..
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sometimes
you ever get that hopelessness feeling? you see hope around you but never on you? you strive to make yourself a better person and make best of the situations you’ve been place under but the more progress you think you’ve made the further back you find yourself? like loneliness and empty hope is all you cling on to? i don’t know, sometimes i wonder..
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