I never know how to start these things . . . .
Maybe I just need to write a book . . . .
I just don’t understand why I’m always looking for something greater . . .
Why can’t I find contentment within the simple things?
Why am I so fucking dramatic?
My right now is "Someday it will be better, but that's no good to us now. Oh we can do so much better, just leave us alone to let us to try to think about nothing." (Shout Out Louds)
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