i'm so tired of being ugly
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everyday i feel loss
i only breathe and grieve, grieve and breathe
everyday i feel lost
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i wonder where you are right now
do you think that you're dreaming?
or maybe this all feels like a fleeting moment of haziness?
only i know the truth
but i cannot bear to tell you the truth
you're wandering around barefoot
your eyes are lost, your mind is gone
you are a ghost
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Sanna Wani, “Who is the Sun, Asking for Sleep?”, My Grief, the Sun // Brenna Twohy, A Coworker Asks Me If I Am Sad, Still
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i wanna write something but i just dont know what
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— Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking
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the love hypothesis by ali hazelwood
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i love working hard to get what i want. i hate working hard and still not getting jackshit
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the academic frustration of expecting an A but getting a B+
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I can’t stop thinking about this.
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.. it is getting too lonely, too cold, too empty and too dull for me.
- Vincent Van Gogh
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