it seems there's no room for the slow and uninterested. i see them moving along the sides of roads on cool humid mornings, perhaps at peace for those few hours, perhaps forgotten to peace. i can see me walking their path. on a constant search for immediately soothing shallow comforts before death plucks my weak limbs from the giant social tree. i
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xo kjersten
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especially the whole "your unborn answers are seeds lying in your chest. and they lie infertile. but when you expose yourself to life certain experiences can fertilize certain seeds. and with the outside mating with your inner self, truths will sprout and begin life." thing. because i believe exactly that, but couldn't have put it as eloquently as you did.
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