sorry that its been a week since I’ve replied to your message. I was held captive by the 20 something urge to do both everything and nothing in life.
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— Penelope’s Song, Louise Glück
[text ID: Who wouldn't want you? Whose most demonic appetite could you possibly fail to answer?]
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oh to live in one’s own apartment surrounded by antique furniture and books…
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Our small talks aren't that small.
I think of them religiously.
jude.
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I need a pretty boy. I need a pretty boy to go stargazing with. I need a pretty boy to drink coffee with and chat about Shakespeare with. I need a pretty boy to kiss and cuddle with. I need a pretty boy to love. In short I am very gay and lonely.
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I love when people tell me stories of themselves from when they were a kid. Like yes i love the kid you. The kid you and kid me would have been such good friends. We would have shared our bouncy rubber ball collection and climbed trees. We would have laughed at crows and made stone masterpieces. We would have saved up 5 coins to get lollipops together. I wish I met you earlier.
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fatima aamer bilal, from shame is a girl’s second skin.
[text id: i wanted to hurl my girlhood on a sidewalk, and never walk that road again. / my insides have been eating me up alive lately.]
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Oh how desperately I want a friend group to discuss classics, philosophy, literature, to write poetry, to discuss the ramblings of ancient minds over a late night dinner while playing chess, to have inside jokes with references only we could understand, to have a bacchanal, to plan for world domination, to have a bond that we would kill for each other
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