there’s a thing that happens as you grow older; all joy becomes bittersweet, and all sadness becomes underwhelming. i guess it’s our way of dealing with an unpredictable and logistical world; we try to fit everything to those boxes. the happiest i’ve been is where i’ve been unaware of myself. what a shitty life
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I HATE CHRONIC PAIJ IY STOPS ME FROM DOING THINGS. ITS BEEN YEARS AND I. CANT. GET. OVER. THAT
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once again considering the reasons i speak/write. it is so fucking difficult. i’m so mad that to create things i have to put bits of myself into them.
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when I googled “making a blog”
I found it saying “don’t talk about things no one is interested in”
good for you! I’m not interested in myself either
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