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The ballad of the dreamer
He existed. Everyday. In the head. In the haze. On a freaky Friday, he died. With that, he becomes forever. In my haze. In my head. Everyday. He exists.
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It feels cold. And empty. Yet full, and overwhelming. It’s everything, and nothing. Familiar, yet very strange. It’s cold, but not that dark. It’s confusing, but in there is clarity. As clear as it could be, stirring and sinking the mind. It’s unsettling, yet comforting. Incomprehensible, light as a feather. For the first time I…
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Oh, Dionysus
Oh! Look at him, Dionysus!Yes, you. Dionysus. Oh, Dionysus. Oh, fuck, it’s you, Dionysus. Fuck me. Not as in fuck me—but fuck, me, Dionysus.
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Enigma
70% of the time I left the house, I’ll leave it in an ‘acceptable’ mess, if not squeaky clean. The 30% was probably just small chores, or I’m just too lazy. Sometimes I also check whether or not my emergency contact was the last person I messaged or called. I did this because there’s always…
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Gold
All that glisters is not gold—Often have you heard that told. — William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice, Act II Scene 7 For the longest time I thought Gold doesn’t suit me. Or that wealth means greedy, and comfortable means lazy. But then one day I decided to embrace Gold. I put the finest ones on, pouring…