A Collection of Spectacles

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i’m constantly chasing bouts of mania. because right now, i feel so normal (or as stereotypically normal as it gets) which is so odd. i find “normal” to be synonymous with nothingness. i think that all of these recent posts have been a waste of time and space because they’re full of nothingness. they’re all me sitting here, trying to dig up something to put down. and if i ever got anything to make me taste more of this normalness then i would gut myself before experiencing it. i miss the thoughts that passed through my head. it’s as if i want to produce something great but can’t because nothing comes to me. i’m not even excited about what to me was interesting yesterday. i find no excitement in anything.  the usual pursuit of happiness isn’t even appealing right now. i’m so needy. and always am when that’s concerned. i want to be engulfed in someone’s admiration. if thinking of you doesn’t throw me into complete hyperactivity and make me lose sleep then i don’t like you enough. is that okay though? to only mark being in love with blind disruptive devotion?

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One Response

  1. Claire Anne says:

    Hi.
    It’s different for everybody, Allie. If that’s what you prefer, then you will have to check those boxes off and narrow the choices down.
    I hate staying up late not doing anything,
    it really kills me.

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