We are all entitled for what we feel, and what comes after decides who we are.

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Hyderabad: 8 December 2021: years ago i've fallen madly in love with the idea of a misfit. i was disheartened that I would never be the likes of those who could touch anything without destroying them, while there's me who's so fragile that any attempt of feeling means cataclysm to either me or to my surroundings. and that made me thought I would only fit along the graveyards above at night.
but my feet still perceive the ground. And everything is raging and trembling and i? still breathing. blending. trying. and i won't deny that it's still one of my favorite words that i love to carve at any surface.
i love the idea of falling, of hitting rock bottom, of bleeding and screaming, in ruins and in pieces, it made me think it was me
—i am yet, still here... counting dots but this time not as graveyards.
jotting down notes, chasing dreams.
we are all entitled for what we feel, and what comes after decides who we are.
— mj zyke

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