i have this fear (that i am fucking up), that one day i will be gone, and i will have not found the most honest rhythm of trickle and bursting that will keep me sane. i am scared that i am not good enough, of not startling, of being the face in the shadow that never reveals itself because the shadow gives it more substance. i am scared of moving
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your shadow is your's. Your face illuminates darkness. you are luminary. and light. and love embodied.
breathe well.
" i am not a suicide
so i must be one of the fittest"
so much
so much
so much
everything.
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i would like to see or hear you
i tell people about you, and sharing the beach, goopy potato things and mermaid (jay wears the parade shirt around)
ps-i am taking a dumb dumb class on russia, for the animation, but i got put in the poetry instead, over intellecutualized everything, fuckin rottting fungi nippledrops
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And remember: Sanity is boring, and insanity, while often given a bad reputation, is usually just a unique way of seeing the world (which I know you have).
Explore. Yourself. Your surroundings. Your everything. I know you'll find something.
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thanks for typing up those pandemonium poems on myspace
whenever i got caught in that trap website, im like why am i here? i have no friends...? i need to get funnier pictures....suck down esteem, and then i read those poems and "lol" everytime.
(i am exploring, some peopple here are nice, but there is a strange void of unaffection)
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i save things for you in my head. burst this crown inside out when i think of you (so much and often)
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