So it begins, the days of contemplating and imagining, of self-pitying and self-doubting, of drenching in ecstasy and, a moment later, in agony. These are the days of raising false hopes and crashing into reality. Nothing is worse than it except for dying.
So help me, God.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
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2 comments:
tell me about it. love and its derivative are such an self inflicting pain. it itches you to feel the hurt again and again and again...
Yeah, I was much happier when I have no one to "long" for. This too shall pass....
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