To hold infinity in the palm of your hands, and eternity in an hour, see the world in a grain of sand, and see heaven in a wild flower. — William Blake
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i get frustrated with myself with not being able to appreciate things to the extent that I want.
I’ve disconnected with myself in such a way that is hard to explain.
music grasps at me again.
momentary elation mistranslated to problems fixed.
Don’t let your struggle become your identity.
I emotionally have a sense of who I am.
perhaps i have idealized my struggle.
and made it who I am.
but why?
everything is so confusing.
by moving on, would I be compromising who I was.
i’ve seen a side of myself and of the world that makes me sad.
futility of buildings. inconsistency of society.
decay of creativity. worthless.
and that’s so hard to get rid of that feeling.
buried underneath pain and confusion and a vast array of false interpretations.
hmm. maybe because i feel like my life is illegitimate.
illegitimacy, life wasted. a key part of my life out.
you missed out, but you were there. if only physically.
that happened to you.
but you don’t have to make that you.