i never have anything important to say anymore. i'm not as wrapped up in myself as i used to be, so i can't spout empty poeticisms at you speaking deep secrets from my wilting heart; i've grown since then. instead i'm angry, restless, uncertain, and trying to learn enough to face the world instead of just myself.
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Good luck with the world. I find that once we are actually able to keep a roof over our heads and food in our bellies, the rest is perspective.