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sometimes I see public posts, notes, comments, twits and else that makes me wonder why the hell would I say such a thing that every fucking body could always see that and judge me by that. and that's when I feel proud of myself.
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I'm writing imaginary letters to imaginary people using imaginary medium and i'm imagining sending them through an imaginary carrier. rest of the day(s) should be a hopeless effort in realizing some of my morning imaginations. oh, btw, good morning real people! 
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دلم دوست دختر خودمو ميخواد ... د وان دت اي نور ريلي هد.
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دروغ ميگم شاكى نيستم فقط دلم گرفته. بات وات كن يو دو!
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من دپرس نيستم. فقط از دست يه سرى كه خيلى دوسشون دارم شاكيم. سر درد سگيمم برگشته. همين.
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: are you at peace with your loneliness?
- I'm not lonely. you just can't see my people becuz they are only in MY world.
: so in your world, do you ever get lonely?
- yeah. sometimes. it happens.
: what do you do then?
- I pretend I enjoy real people.
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This dance, this dance
Is like a weapon, like a weapon
Of self defense, of self defense
Against the present, against the present
"Present Tense"

I won't get heavy, don't get heavy
Keep it light and, keep it moving
I am doing, no harm anekatips.com

As my world comes crashing down
I am dancing, freaking out
Deaf, dumb, and blind

In you I'm lost, in you I'm lost

I won't turn round while the penny drops
I won't stop now, I won't slack off
Or all this love will be in vain, ooooh
Stop from falling down a mine
It's no ones business but mine
Or all this love will be in vain
Ooohhhh

In you I'm lost, in you I'm lost
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who can made straight what He hath made crooked? (ecclesiastes 7.6)
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i'm feeling it again. how small things can be interesting and joyous. this i assume is a progress.
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sometimes like those few weeks, i find this ardent urge to feel left alone and forgotten. that's when i cut all my ties to the outside world (and friends) and deal with it (with me).
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دخترى دارم گمگشته و مهاجر. بات شى ايز ماى سوپرگرل.