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#journalling
Here I sit, watching the reflection of my past grandeur mock me from within it's folded paper pages. The ink letters dance a mirage of bittersweet enjoyment in the face of my frustration. The drawings of flowers twist and curl over the lines in the book, clutching onto every word, every syllable of woe written amongst the leaves. Faces fall from petal soft whispers, and within their atramentous eyes I find myself lost.
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Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
The Salt of Stubborness
I wrote about it so I could remember I wrote about it so it was somewhere I wrote about it because it was important I wrote about it because I cared I wrote about you because you were significant I write about you because you still are I write for them now that you're away from me I will write for me when you come back I wrote about it because I wanted to remember even if I knew I would anyway I wrote about it. I wrote about it.
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Feb 26
Feb 26, 2026 at 3:29 AM UTC
why