A discontinued post

19:59

I don't usually write blog posts exposing identities or cliche words. Because I happen to like writing indirectly about someone. I circle mazes in order to find the right words to express my sentiments and my past, and although not a significant amount of people are acknowledged of these things (for I write personally), I do constantly pray for someone to come across here and fathom these posts.

I know that my figments are currently mostly about complaints on the state of being a very inexperienced person in life and everything else (which are not very beneficial nor educational nor interesting for anyone), I'd like to just say that I feel this ultimate pressure when it is at the end of the day and I feel nothing but exhaustion and loneliness with absolutely no one to speak through this to. Therefore I write these posts, in hope to feel better.

Even if that "feeling better" was temporary or not real at all.

*discontinued blog-post no.1*

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The wind rummaging through my hair; stroking my shoulders, a field of wildflower between my fingers and the clouds scattered in a uniform pattern. All alone with my milk tea-stained journal, writing pieces of life whilst absorbing the soft reality that I am happy.