I remember a time in my life where I was peeing in bottles , painting on walls, crying my eyes out, and thinking I was engaged. To think I was accepting a life that wasn't mine, or really ever meant to be mine, it was killing me.
Then I got word: He died
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Unbeautiful
SpiritualShe's uninteresting. She's not beautiful, She's not unique. Her depression is an obsession of her mind trying to find what's wrong, and why is she always second best. Sometimes it's poetry, Sometimes it's stories. The likes are validating because sh...
