Do you ever wonder how much you exist in other people’s lives? I’m always curious if people think of me when a certain song comes on, or when they pass through a certain town. I wonder how many stories I’ve been a part of that I may have forgotten. I wonder if I still I exist in the minds of people that I don’t speak to anymore. I wonder how many times a day I pass through someone’s head.
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When your heart says “I want to be happy and do things”
But social anxiety and crippling existential depression says “it’s cute that you thought that”
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Guys! Only $2 to wash away your shame!!
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Mark Rothko, Untitled, 1955, Oil on canvas
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