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Category: Rants & Vents

poem ig (ik ur getting tired of this)

as i lay in bed rotting i imagine a place where nothing matters

where its just me and some strange creatures

i try so hard to lucid dream and see that place

but sleeping's becoming hard to do too

laughing is hard to do

listening is hard to do

breathing is hard to do

taking care of myself is hard to do.

it all feels like a big chore

and since i don't like chores

ill carry on for a month or so before i give up

and it'll be encouraged to keep going

but what do they know?


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