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#cycleofemotions
Bite into an idea— rows of teeth, tension tight. Crowded smiles feel so exposing— _but this one,_ it gnaws deeper. The tension between teething regrets and tethered faith feels so frayed, as if the cord was always a little too short to begin with. I’m not riding the wave— just swimming a little longer in my dreams; watching surfers sail off while I sink into thought. But I surf the internet, researching the cultivation of infinitude— _whatever that means._ Diving into unfathomable depths, only a few steps in and I’m already losing my breath. __Have I sprouted yet__? Most days, my sadness drowns in my anger. Then a spark of joy appears— _brief_, __fleeting__— but its glow only makes me so sad again. And that sadness simmers back into rage, and the loop begins once more. _A cycle. A seesaw._ A silent crusade to love myself again. But the journey never really ends. Even while searching for one. we push forward—again, and again— until we find a better end.
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Jun 28, 2025
Jun 28, 2025 at 3:16 PM UTC
Half-Surfaced, Half-Sinking