It’s possible to be all the parts of you that live in your heart, brain, and body. Not divided into containers. A giant messy wait of authenticity. Where you are all the things. All the time.
Knowing you’ve got my back is everything. When we were sleeping till noon and binge watching scrubs. I never could understand the complexity of the future.
New clothes won’t fill the void. Money won’t make you happy. Attention won’t heal past wounds. Things won’t finally make you feel better. If it’s broken its broken. These are distractions from the real work.
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