Sometimes, the things I think don't make any sense. And then I try to write them out, and they make even less sense. I don't know where my fingers are half the time. Let alone my brain. Who needs cars? For real. I could walk ride my bike everywhere if I wasn't half broken. Dim lights make me feel something. Audacious? Confessional. Most likely. I never open up to people about things in my life, but I tell my secrets to people who don't deserve to know. Which basically means I tell my secrets to every single person I ever meet. I'm not sure if I'm gaining anything by doing so. I feel like I lose a little piece of myself every time someone walks away, stranger or not. I'm trying to figure out what I still have left. I'm doing my best to hold onto myself...but my being is scattered all over the planet. I would tell anyone anything if they asked, but I still don't trust a soul. The state of my stomach often reflects my mindset. You could also look into the amount of food I eat in a day. Possibly the amount of water I consume. The more destructive I get towards my body, the more destructive I feel towards my character. I'm actually more happy than not right now, really. I feel like I have everything I'll ever want at my fingertips, just not in the palm of my hand quite yet. The past week was life changing. I have never felt more full of love in my entire life, thus far.
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