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“I longed for apparitions, ecstasies; I yearned for something to happen inside or outside me [...]”
-Simone de Beauvoir, from ‘Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter’
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i have always felt like
there's too much inside of me
and none of it is quite right.
like a flame constantly
burning itself out
when all it's meant to do
is keep the candle lit.
like an hourglass
suffocating itself
from the pressure of
passing the time.
i think i liked the
feeling originally;
the intensity. the burn.
but honestly i'd trade it all in
just to know what it feels like
to breathe fresh air again.
i think i would like to rest.
i think i would like to stop
moving from place to place,
hoping my restlessness
will be mistaken for wanderlust.
hoping the smoke will stop
following me and finding
its way into my lungs
no matter where i go.
i think i would like to
learn how to breathe again.
-mars
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I need to be alone for a few hours every day, otherwise I start to spiral. but if I'm alone for too long, I also start to spiral. pretty easy, right?
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