Part 8

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I, abstract, adoring, distant And unsalvageable.


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You will not let me more than words. I wish that this word were less than I. I will to be more than this word.


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there is no place for a soft/black/woman. there is no smile green enough or summertime words warm enough to allow my growth. and in my head i see my history standing like a shy child and i chant lullabies as i ride my past on horseback tasting the thirst of yesterday tribes.


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if i had known, if i had known you, i would have left my love at home

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when the words fly faster than my inner critic can kill — that’s when I’m truly alive


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I see the world through sparks and smoke,
The afterimage of fireworks from the eternal summer I never had
I want to keep it in a glass jar.
all echoes in a cave no one will hear
Living on the bones of the past
Walking over the dreams of fossils
Making our homes in their exoskeletons
I wrap myself in my old skin,
It crackles and falls apart at my touch.


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Vibe alone if you must. Never settle for less than what your energy deserves.

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Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.

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when i wrote, and wrote well, i tapped into something far outside myself. in the morning, or months later, whichever came first, i would read over it and could barely recognize me in there. i've always felt like an impostor. it wasn't me writing, i was terrible with words.


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The happier you get,   the less you care about validation.

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Always be mindful of the fragility of life.

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Do you see the stars turning into humans?. Am i made of stardust, or is it just me?.


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I can't open my eyes, if the air is poisoned by people's words.

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An act is best performed when you are enjoying the act itself and not thinking about the outcome.  Once you start seeing everything as an experiment, failure loses its negative weight; in fact, it becomes important to you.


*Unpopular opinion: when my friends tell me a secret, my partner is not entitled to that information.



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“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.” ― Neil Gaiman, The Kindly Ones


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"This cosmic dance of bursting decadence and withheld permissions, twists all our arms collectively, but if sweetness can win, and it can, then I'll still be here tomorrow to high-five you yesterday, my friend. Peace."









@joangorgey

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