art is nothing but an all-consuming obsession with nothing and nowhere
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feeling that oppressive urge to have a group of friends who have weekly dinners at someone’s apartment, flock together on campus, debate literature and philosophy over wine soaked nights, study in the library together long after everyone’s gone, write each other letters when we’re apart for the holidays, run about the woods at night and be utterly, utterly free.
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music , a book , a poem , a story , a sketch . I am forever cycling through escapes . In all things I love I am never fully present, in all things I love I am anywhere but here
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"fuck you my child is completely fine"
your child reads classic literature for fun
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