everything is so empty these days. we're all so cut off from one another. how did we get this way? and all we're left to do is stagnate in the what-ifs of paths not taken and ruminate in the things we're missing.
It's impossible to tell the exact nature of a box when you're inside of it. You know that, and everyone knows that, but until the moment that you're trapped in the box and beating bloodied knuckles against the insides do you realize just how you wish, for one last moment, that maybe you would have remembered to check the color of the paint that was put on the outside, or noted on whether or not the box is wood, or metal, or perhaps some sort of plexi-glass.
It's the what-ifs that kill us, but somehow also make us human.
But the problem is that you never know how a successful a choice is until after you've already made it and feel the consequences.
Hearts are with you. Know this, even in your darkness.
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It's the what-ifs that kill us, but somehow also make us human.
But the problem is that you never know how a successful a choice is until after you've already made it and feel the consequences.
Hearts are with you.
Know this, even in your darkness.
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