God. It just sucks so much that at almost-18 years old I believe in you as completely as a 6 year old does in unicorns and fairies. Every few days it hits me that you're not even real. Because you're not even alive.
You're not living. You're being lived.
The Urge to Live a Bit
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Does it matter what it is? As long as it brings me happiness, peace and
joy? A smile to my lips and a bounce to my step? Should I ponder at
everything it c...
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