Jolieflows - 𝐴.

Where do you start when you feel despondent? not the feeling about being alone. However, the only factor. nowhere to fit. being nothing in a world that is something.

When your voice falters, your heart beats in trembling clef rhythms; but, when you do feel stronger, why does it fade?

No depression. No isolation. a feeling of separation on the inside. How can you fight that sensation? There are no materials. no substances

My words are failing, and the pen is on the page. I'm eagerly awaiting the boomerang-like return of my hopes.

Where do I go now that I feel so alone?

Here. I came here. It was noted down.

From: Angie💋

To: Your self right now. It'll all be okay. 🖤

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬. 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐈 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞.

Ja. Einzigartig. Das uralte Gedichtgerät. Schön.

Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka: 1910-1913

—Is just a distinctive time in thought? Is the mind prone towards becoming disturbed when the physical exerts more motion? The past tends to re-locate in mental constructs, intensifying and generating dreadful interpretations of what hasn't happened. Then, is there a time constraint? Is there a set amount of time that the mind should be still? It's possible that the body needs more time than usual to soothe. When the balance of the intellect is off, the soul becomes agitated and annoyed. fractured, hampered, and tumbling into the achingly complex routine. It throbs. There is never an anguish in the soul for what is—only for what wasn't.

“I’ve learned people are made of layers and sometimes you have to wait until the next one is revealed.”

— @sixwordssayitall

To be a rose. To be a rose. To be.

Transition. Night|Mornin’.

5/5;

Persistent on the insignificant considerations of some time recently. Some time recently what? Some time recently me, some time recently it, some time recently whom? Caught in it. Caught in what? You're not making any sense. Sense. Does that qualify for rational soundness? Or is that a classic problem. Prepare for the leading, halt maturing on the glasses of it being the more awful. Of course life is worse— each day we breathe we pass on a small more. That, ought to illuminate you to be free and live. Hold nothing back, be louder, go father.

When is sufficient... considered as well much? How much do we know about being sufficient? Go farther...be courageous. Cry, be irate, and...take jumps. Life is disintegrating. Broken. And however, it's never been way better. Battered and bruised; but sweetened and lively.

There is often too much to say and not enough time. Cliché. a complete fiasco. Truthfully... Why say anything at all?

My mental imagination is where I'd prefer spend each day. I would much rather be at ease with the knowledge that I can somewhat influence the depths of my thoughts.

Time therefore expires. This will happen. There it is. It will tick more quickly. Let it be.

Der richtige Weg. Oder das Vorfahrtsrecht, um aus jedem Fehler etwas Besonderes zu machen.