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'You wake up one morning and there it is, sitting in an old plaid bathrobe in your kitchen, unpleasant and unshaved. You look at it, heart sinking. Madness is a rotten guest.'

No matter how often I wash the dishes, they still get dirty again. No matter how often I do my laundry, it needs doing again. No matter how often I tidy my room, it gets messy again. No matter how often I smoke, my craving is never satisfied for long. No matter how often I have sex, I still ache for you. No matter how much work I do, there is still more to be done. No matter how much sleep I get, I’m still tired within a few hours of being awake. 

I guess I’m tired of repetition. I guess life is exhausting me. I guess I’m tired of trying.

'When I look at him, it feels like fear. His eyes are green and full of shadows. His mouth is beautiful. He leans towards me and I know. I know. It hasn't happened yet, but it's going to. Number eight is love.'

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You make my heart hurt.

Anonymous said: this blog is kinda perfect, I'm sorry if I reblog too much... it's literally me, thank you so much.

awh haha. reblog as much as you want and thank u :) :)