Reality is such a waste of time. I think i'm once again removing myself from it, becoming less and less concerned with the world around me. I keep one foot in it while the other is off in some other cushioned velvety shoe. I can peacefully sit in my corner for hours enjoying my own company without the need to come out of myself. Some weekends are spent exactly like this: unable to leave my room. Those are the signs of a slightly depressive personality – we all know that very well, we've been there already.
The need to belong is still there. I've simply lost track of the end of this thread that's got all tangled up and messy. It's the desire to channel my exchanges with this world through one person alone, a person greater than me, greater than life. So i do sometimes look up, squint in the light that i've become unaccustomed to and wonder – what if...
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