Truth is relative. Facts are relative. Nothing seems honest when you are not in the state of mind. Nothing matters when you have been betrayed all your life. Life seems to be like a train which is stopping at every small station/ running local when the hardest moments are being experienced. They don’t understand me. I feel I am fluttering and banging against the walls of my own existence. Trying to understand my truth and the truth they want me to know. Every time I try to trust someone it fails. Failure makes you weak and vulnerable. It makes you scared to be out of the box of your existence and experience the excitement of the reality in an exclusively vulnerable way.
Isn’t life worth living when it is strange and uncertain?
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