we live among the people who cover up the miseries in their lives with whiskey and smile from their cubicles for the sake of validating themselves in terms of work culture.
The original identities of us are way too morbid and blurred that we need festivities like new year or birthdays to open up and reconcile with the lost ones.
The pieces of us which are long lost when we are drunk and high are too hard to find, and we put in little efforts to complete the puzzle of life.
We right swipe someone and expect them to fill the pieces of us that were soo broken, we text those who themselves are drowning in voids because we expect company and we strive to lift them up, but this process itself makes us walk through the darkest phases and remind us what made us into what we are right now.
we talk volumes about how hollow our life is, we write poems about the deficit art is facing,
We are the parts of us that are left behind by the people we loved the most and the pieces of us that are never been loved.
I have the biggest weakness for fuzzy sweaters, this one is from @balzacparis and I’m in loveeee. Also, I’m on my way to London. 🇬🇧 Give me all the recommendations. Cafes, places for pictures, etc! ❤️ Photo by @keatonharaga, edited by me.
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