"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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d e v o n
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Game of Thrones Daily
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Not today Justin


祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Love Begins
will byers stan first human second

Janaina Medeiros
Stranger Things
dirt enthusiast

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@yulyurk

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I look at you from the distance, saddened, knowing that smile on your face is not because of me.
euphoric-dreams (via wnq-writers)
taking selfies with exo
Baekhyun is legit me

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I wish I was defined as something more than just the sad one.
1st loop; the past: 070805 - 140929 2nd loop; the past: Jessica ceases promotional activities with the group. 3rd loop; the present: Paths diverge. Jessica does B&E, 8 continue.
4th loop; the future: Paths converge. Hoping to see them on good terms again someday.
I used the concept of time as a fifth dimension, and the circle as an infinite cycle. The clock frequency begins the same way for all, before one comes to a standstill during a period of uncertainty. The third loop begins a cycle of two different frequencies, that of the group (rapid, as is the flow of the entertainment industry) and that of one trying to find stability (slow, unsure). They face opposite directions at 3.5, and that’s as far as the present has gone. The fourth assumes the same frequencies, but whether or not they will converge remains unknown.
I started this after the Tokyo Dome performance by the 8 members as a way of coping with the loss. It did not give me closure, but it gave me hope.
queued 03/31/2015
VN • LA • LV • HK • CEB
And I really am trying to fall in love with life, but I just keep tripping over my feet.

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I like you, I like you a lot. Before I felt like the ocean, during a storm. I felt like I had no control of myself. I was a mess. I hurt people. I couldn’t find the sun, nothing to make me happy. There was no beauty in this storm. But then you came along. The clouds went away, and the sun came back out. You smiled at me and we hugged. My waves grew less violent. I felt happy again. You may not be mine, and you may never know that I like you. But I just wanted to say thank you, you made the storm inside my head go away longer than anyone else has.
Am I a failure of duty or dogma? The brain that will not answer to itself, heart that flings itself into the ether, the ever after, full of a strange obligation to believe.
Frantic for faith.
I find that I have been walking the same narrow passageway for years; thinking each time I am following a fresh hope.
The faces change but the destination always reveals itself.
Same, same, same. Hands tapping now, a new muttering, and the woman sits across from me and says, “How can I help other people, if I don’t have myself together? Know what I’m saying?”
I almost laugh. I almost cry.
But no one can help anyone else. All of us are searching, stumbling.
This enters the mumbling.
Who am I to believe in myself, if you won’t? Who are you to demand belief?
I sit in the wooden chair, repeating the words of a familiar language.
Everything is simple in the beginning: Words for food, for being, for wanting and liking and doing.
I am learning backwards because I hear this language express the unspeakable.
My ears are clouded with shadows.
Today we learned the word to suffer and I thought, this word, I need.
This word, I can use.

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and I feared I might not ever again feel enough to know when to stop.
Stephen Dunn, from The Stories (via violentwavesofemotion)