Hannah. Australian. Just a blog full of random shit. Looking for someone to have an existential crisis with. Maybe we can hold hands. Maybe even kiss.
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whatever *drinks red wine* *lies in the middle of road*
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i just want a good night’s sleep wrapped in your arms
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It’s to early to see the stars for real
And I’m too far from the ocean tides
So I’d rather stare into the endless depths of your eyes
Too see if my soul will reflect back at me
And show me which way is North
I’m tangled and lost in the mess of myself
Will you save me or thrust me under further?
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I told myself I bought nice things for myself to make myself happy. Though in every decision you were somewhere in my thoughts. Just a small consideration, enough to convince myself what I was doing was right. If you didn’t like it, it wouldn’t matter, I’d still love it anyway. Even if you didn’t love me, I’d still love myself. Is that the same as self-care? Am I actually secure in myself? Who knows? Not me. But I know I love the decisions made, irregardless of what you think. Maybe some part of me is growing despite you and inspite of my recklessness.
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I don’t like being used,
But by you honey,
I’ll happily break myself against your walls
Just to say I did it to myself.
I wanted you to break me.
But I realised I’m quite capable of doing that myself.
I don’t need you.
But god, do I want you.
Less and less each time,
For now though,
I’ll kill your time.
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Someone come read to me so we can grow together?
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they allowed me to escape, and to create, and to live again, — the books.
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i still haven’t learned not to call myself atlas he had no choice but to carry the weight of the world on his back i did i do i just haven’t quite figured out how to let go of everything i don’t need to hold how to remind myself i am not atlas and i do not have to bear any heaviness that is not mine to carry
(cc, 2019)
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Legit my new house new life state of mind
“So therefore I dedicate myself to myself, to my art, my sleep, my dreams, my labors, my sufferances, my loneliness, my unique madness, my endless absorption and hunger - because I cannot dedicate myself to any fellow being.”
— Jack Kerouac
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sorry for being mentally ill can we still kiss
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