| My favourite book sits under my desk... A secret I'm unwilling to share with anyone, including myself. When I seek comfort, I flip through it's pages, exciting myself with the idea that there's still something out there that I've yet to steal and taint. That's what we do right? We think we're individuals, but in reality we're actually less than the individuals we think we are. We assimilate into each other so unconsciously, so easily we just don't take notice. Finding myself was the concept that dominated the last 2 years of my life, post-I-need-you-to-make-me-happy... But is such a search really necessary? The idea of seeking is flawed, when you search, yes perhaps you're more acutely aware, but only of the essence you're searching for. So in that sense, there's already a preconceived notion, an active attempt to find something, it's not really a discovery is it?
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1)There you go, the one of the 2 pictures I have with my new hair... More soon (maybee?).
2)It's Sunday, and with daylight saving, it feels almost like we're in a new season.
3)There's one person I'd like to talk to right now, and I hope you'll talk to me. |
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| whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy? |
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