there are so many things inside me I can only share with paper.
also: when you're happy, be careful where you are and who is watching.
I stuck my mind in the pile of petty little details of life and the big picture slipped away, but this did not make me calm. It did not make me happier or better, I'm a rudiment piece of life, waiting to expire. I wish to fly, but where are my wings? Good food, compliments, a cosy home and partner- yes, they're nice, they bring some comfort, some content, yet happiness slips through my greedy hands. I wish to fill my skin with greatness on the inside, I wish to be self-made and self-fulfilled and seize the madness...
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