A Collection of Spectacles

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i wish i possessed the ability to look inside myself and piece together one unified whole. currently, the space that holds each part separate is filled with doubt, uncertainty, and a certain amount of contempt towards the future. i am anxious. i’m having trouble waiting. i want things to be different. yet, i’m dreading it at the same time. 

attaining what you want most in life requires that you openly allow what you’re asking for to happen. inside there is still a small trace of reluctance and this could be the cause of everything. 

or. maybe. 

i don’t have conventional expectations. it’s possible that i’m trying to fit myself into a lifelike reenactment of some offbeat play that depicts exactly what i think i should experience.

i enjoy flirting with debauchery from time to time. i like having small doses of instability in my life. thus, i secretly long for the type of person who possesses the ability to push me to my emotional brink but, of course, obtaining this unique brand of affection can have horrible consequences. forcing myself towards some sort of standard doesn’t work either. i end up more vacant than when i began. the current remedy is to do nothing, pocket away my passion, and smother it until it turns into nonchalance. i’m aware of the fact that the options i’ve currently placed before myself don’t solve anything. 

i did, however, lose my appetite today. maybe this is a sign. 

claire told me about the nature of butterflies.

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