Writing: as concentrated time. Hundreds of words trail into a few meaningless minutes, time spent with nothing but the contents of your own mind - and yet through it all the outside influence of others stick in your skin like so many briars, reaching for roses but with the unavoidable thorns that so cruelly and unavoidably come with living.
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"There is something so poetic about silence. Maybe it's because we think we understand it."
⚠️ WARNING ⚠️
tw // suicidal thoughts, depression, mature language