where we write it

let’s look at women until we’re sick of them

I feel invisible…. you know the feeling; people in the room,  but we can’t connect. 

 looks and faces don’t matter anymore.   happiness is hard to obtain.  like if happiness is something you can’t pass to others. 

I overdosed!  ov on 6 amb, 2 thyn.   waiting …might die alone this time I don’t giva f**k about sh*t that resembles  perfect  values in life and we’re expected to live to it. 

no i never been anyone,  & those values are subjective.   don’t agru them. equality is mesured not random.

———now what: feeling too fainting..   I wish I die.   leave like no one knew about me,

I’m full, and empty.

I’m sick ,  and dying . 

I’m heartless and lovely.  

desperate of looking to the mom figure.  An ideal female  and free love.

I hear but  I can’t be heard.

   I want to influence,  share.  touch, or change. 

pain of the things that happen now,  and the orders in our mind that tell us what to do with loneliness.  when you feel unknown source of being worthless, hopeless, lost,  in fear, threats, pressure, anxiety, endless worry and exhaustion.

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