"Cigarettes after shrek"
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Repost from سه تکه استخوان
لرزشهای خفیفی را در فاصلهی بین استخوانها تا پوستم احساس میکنم. میخواهم با کسی حرف بزنم، نمیتوانم. کمی بیشتر در تاریکی فرو میروم.
I wish I wrote the way I thought:
Obsessively,
Incessantly,
With maddening hunger.
I'd write to the point of suffocation.
I'd write myself into
Nervous breakdowns,
Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing.
And I'd write about you a lot more than I should.
__benedict Smith,
I wish I wrote the way
I tough.
I felt like crying...
But nothing came out
It was just a sort of sad sickness
Sick sad
When you can't feel any worse
I think you know it I think everybody knows it now and then but I think I have known it pretty often...
Too often.
We're all killers we've all killed parts of ourselves to survive we've all got blood on our hands..
Something somewhere had to die so we could stay alive.
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