A time where I tried
You left your traces in me
They don't wash off
Believe me, I've tried
I hide them deep down
But somehow, they surface
Making me feel like I'm in every love song
My heartbeat gets faster
Just like when our eyes met
Those memories haunt me
Like seeing a ghost walking by the places we walked
I close my eyes and they come together
I replay them again and again
Just to see what it could've been
I don't want to lose those traces
They represent a time where I tried
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― Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea
[text ID: I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar.]
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Albert Camus and his cat, Cigarette
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Thursday, January 4.
Existential Ben Affleck.
Well it's January 4, after all—indeed it cannot be anything else. And nothing quite distills the suffocating existential weight quite like another image of Ben Affleck trying, and failing, to carry out the most menial tasks of the day. There is a little Ben Affleck in all of us.
So once you're done staring at the sad, widening pool of coffee at your feet, come celebrate this gaping abyss of a month with a series of Affleck-inspired gazes into the void.
@batfleckgifs
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Theory verses application ~
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