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im going to (remembers suicide jokes badly impact my mental health) życie życie... jest nowelą...
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The Consequence of Audience
As I went there through the long, long wood, I felt no-thing and I was no-thing and I was at ease. The grey ash trees and their mottled plumage were as one with each other, curving and branching to form a ceiling overhead. There was wide separation between trunks, creating vast corridors stretching off in all directions before me, behind me, all around me. O, what praise I could sing of that never-ending dusk fall I spent between those oaks! None came with me, none came upon me, for I was alone and I was at ease. Yet came the day the trees broke, the corridor ended, and I was thrust upon the rocky expanse that was the Great Dark. There I saw first face and heard footstep, few and far between, but I was no longer alone. It was a shameful deed to carry these two naked hands as they clenched hotly, now in full display for all to see. I had never noticed them in the wood, for I was at ease. Here, the taut skin seemed to stretch and sweat, almost glowing, as if exasperated of their own grip. For as I wandered the Great Dark, there was not but grey, barren rock as far as any eye could see. It did make a passerby out of an observer. I saw them trudge by, fingers dipped into their open mouths desperate for wetness, the lolled tongue. There, in the wood, I was the watcher, but here I am nothing but displacing air. Yet, within the smothering toil of my apathy, I had heard the bell. Murmur of God between their slick, bent fingers ruffled the hair on the back of my neck. My muscles groaned against the weight of the skin around them, aching to be set loose. All at once, I saw, from where I stood, there rose a great dome atop a hill on the horizon before me. Yes, I saw it there with mine own two eyes! The white exterior peered at me with flat orifices obscured through the mist, barely distinguishable from the dark sky behind it, as though all the world beyond the dome was cut from the same slab, only slightly effaced. The convex roof sat atop a disk, held up by great ionic pillars circling the temple. Steps radiated out and down the slope, like ripples in a pond escaping a dropped stone. It was greater than life, greater than the wood, greater than all else which filled this dark, and my gullible delight was that it was all mine. Yes, all mine! One could follow me to it but they could not follow me in. My hands stretched outwards with an audible cracking in the bone as I crept forward there. I could not tell you the rest. I would not even attempt, for it would change no-thing. To know if I did go completely naked into the theater of the divine. If I did need for no-thing, want for no-thing. If I was then full to the brim, cylindrical pull slid through my gaping jaw into my endless throat. If I saw it there, shimmering through the veil like pearlescent oil over crystal water. If it heard me singing with every atom that formed me, through every orifice and wound I had, polytonal in my begging for it to complete me with the fifth. If it looked into me, saw how I needed to know what God knows and to be with him. If it spoke back to me in flat dissonance, “how couldn’t ye?” It would be of no good to speak these things to you. In what way I was still returned to the ground, even if beneath it, intact with my puerile need to repeat my-self and my mistakes. Who would not climb the wall for a peer over the edge? The cautionary tale is the fool’s errand, and I am no fool. I am as my hands are; twisting in on themselves and bursting at the seams. I can-not contain the ache for sensation, just as I could not contain the grief as I fell, nor the agony as I crawled my way back to this rocky countryside, and lo! I am on my way there again now. I am, I am, I am! But I will not tell you the visceral details, as you already know them. You all do.
It’s happening to every-body.
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Everything is permitted; nothing is impossible.
Eventually everything connects.
Eternity is Now.
Scarcity is an illusion; self-sufficiency is a myth.
Subtraction is addition.
Pain is mandatory; suffering is optional.
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if you are currently going through a burnout just know that you will get better. you can change how you think and how you live. you will still struggle with the same problems but it will be manageable and that will make all the difference – that will be enough. three years ago i was in such a bad place when i got burned out which in turn led to the break-up of my long-term relationship and childhood trauma resurfacing. most days i only had the energy to drag myself to (online) therapy and to microwave a meal and i spent the rest of my time in bed. i was so miserable that i didn't know what to do with myself and didn't see how i could possibly live a happy and healthy life again. i could only try and trust that it would get better. and it did! slowly most of the times, and sometimes with big steps. i can see that now. i am currently the happiest that i have been in many years, and i feel more myself than before. my life does not look like the glamorous impressive picture that i always envisioned, but that's okay. i can cook my own meals again, i can travel again, i can even work again and earn my own money. i am in a loving relationship that i never imagined i could get. it's a life that fits me. i had to go through a very bad time in order to get here, but i am glad that it happened. and i promise it will get better for you, too
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He looks so beautiful while he's falling
tormented girl fall
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The Northern Lights 1: Howard Russell Butler (1856-1934) 2,3,4: Sydney Laurence (1865-1940)
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The 12th century ruins of Château de Joyeuse Garde, associated with Arthurian legend and said to be the location of Sir Lancelot’s tomb.
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