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I am suspended in the air
My feelings dutifully cast aside as you wanted
I am trying to touch the ground with my toes
But the effort sticks the air to my skin most painfully
The art of pretending things are normal is lost to me
I can pretend I have this art
There is evidence I can do that

A hanging you say and I nod
The great event will be held and recalled
As the most insignificant in history
The air sticks to my skin more painfully
And nothing is looking around more anxiously
Than those feelings cast in the corner
Chained by duty and damn sensibility

I am suspended and floating in the air
Looking down at everyone’s gloriously busy lives
Now the those feelings are beginning to die
Without water to live in
Their dry skeletons stuck in my heart
Like I am stuck above the ground
Yet it was I, who placed the rope around my own neck.

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this is from may, but today is a reminiscing kind of day. because i wish for this kind of peace again…

outside with tea and ginger 27th

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i was looking through old india pictures.

i was looking at them with a whole new perspective.

current events are worthy of a blog post, but i have a headache.

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