Things can get so spacious; I don't feel a swelling in my chest- just a blankness in my skull; spilling out from the hole I've poked to pull out all these thoughts for a constant and unendurable analysis of analysis of analysis.
Don't worry about jumping; (you won't anyway) and when you do, you really are only finally landing.
It's come to this: I really
don't even see the use
of happiness.I choose solitude: A warm blanket and cocoa while her friends are over and I sit in the corner as they talk; and I am present, in my barriers of cotton polyster blend- but I can't say a word, anymore. I can't remember any of the magic ones.
-e.
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