imagine being named after the goddess of protection and growing up thinking the only way to protect the people you love is by putting yourself between them and the bullet. every bullet. & when the people you love die, you start to love the gun—every gun. you lock yourself in a room with a bomb to save the world and life is beautiful because you’re going to die.
then the bomb goes off and you live.
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how do some people just go about their day without crippling anxiety?? that lifestyle is so beyond me i cannot even conceptualize it. i have to hype myself up to do even the simplest shit
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