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@daddysaturn

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the sun the moon and the stars - greg mort
・゚゚・。⋆.ೃ࿔*:・。・゚゚・
Art by JenPanepinto
Arte de Jen Panepinto

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sorry boss can't come in today i was on my way to work and then a gentle spring breeze kissed my cheek and reminded me it is a serious thing just to be alive on this fresh morning in this broken world

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Mary Shelley, from "Lodore" in The Complete Novels of Mary Shelly
via
Anaïs Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1939–1947

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i lost the words that used to find me (i boxed them neatly in some pocket of my brain)
i forget what i’d just done and i answer questions that weren’t addressed to me (i answered wrong anyway)
i have dropped my vitamins on the floor every night (i didn’t know i was shaking)
i have diagnosed myself with everything under the sun (but i still can’t justify my actions)
i have changed in ways that seem incomprehensible (i swear i’m no insecure about it)
finding meaning in the mundane and connecting the dots of a bigger cosmic picture used to be so easy. i could make conclusions, find the full circle, and tie up loose ends in an instant. i’ve been tainted by a grief as black as the night sky and floating further away from reality. time collapses on itself and my brain refuses to function properly in self defense. i am a refugee to my own body, seeking asylum in a dream. it’s the only way i’m surviving