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I wish more people would live life. There’s that quote by Oscar Wilde: “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”Those are some of the truest words I’ve ever heardWe often lose sight of ourselvesin this life We neglect the things that bring happinessDays filled with performing the
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Some days I wake up and feel like I’m doing it all wrong. My brain spirals, a journeydown a drain of negative thoughts I beat myself up from the inside outblows flying thoughts clutteredThe life I was content with yesterdaysuddenly no longer good enough todayBurrowing into every minuscule detailpicking apart every aspect Negative thoughts like
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There are days that I stare out my windowinto the pale blue of the skytrees dancing on the skylinewondering what the hell I’m doing…My mind digging up decisionsplaying on the screen of my mind like a slideshowquestioning my actions, drawing up different scenariosallowing myself to contemplate if these different endingswould change my pathPerhaps leading me
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I laughed at this prompt…pretty much everything. Things that average people may not even think about. New restaurant? Heart pattering about the parking situation. Meeting new people? Tongue forgetting to work, words disappearing- social anxiety taking control. Chasing a dream? Fear of failure stepping in moments after devising a plan Going on vacation? Wonder if
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Sitting here on my computer- I’m supposed to be writing my next short story. Seinfeld is playing softly in the background. My mind keeps drifting off to places unrelated to the task at hand which in turn spikes my anxiety. I hate not completing my tasks in their scheduled time period. 1:30 PM on the
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I get ahead of myself sometimes. Combing through my to do listrunning like credits on repeatthrough my brainPlanning for this, planning for thatalways moments aheadIn return, leavingthe Now a few momentsbehind…Before its timeLosing the opportunity to experience itKeeping it unfulfilledThe Now is probably angry at me sometimesfor failing to see its stunning existenceignoring its allureThe
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I dreamt of you again last nightyou seem to be invading my dreamsmore often than not these daysAt first, I was angryhow dare you break into my head my inner sanctumin my most vulnerable stateafter you tore apart my heartwith your bare handsBut, I began to grow accustom to seeing you theremeeting you in my


