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I never paid any attention to people who told me to go out and live. I belonged always to whatever was far from me and to whatever I could never be. Anything that was not mine, however base, always seemed to me to be full of poetry. The only thing I ever loved was pure nothingness.
The questions we ask ourselves,
The things we don't talk about out loud.
I never feel, I never see, I never know.
How can the right thing be so wrong, I found mistakes where they don’t belong.
“It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.”
“And all that led me—where?”
We can plant a memory garden
Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair
2025/07/01 11:48:16
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