I feel like I wake up sometimes and my body has decided to destroy me instead of work with me.
I want to be in control, of my body, or my mind maybe, or just something.
I know I’m in control of how I respond to when my body tortures me, and that is about all I’ve got control over.
Sometimes it seems bigger than I can handle to even maintain a positive thought in the midst of my body deciding how to hurt today.
Totally What’s Happening
Big Tag Words1Q84 100 days project bed books card cards chatting with The Boy colorado correspondence depression face fear food friends handwriting project Haruki Murakami Kevyn kitten letter letters Lily links love mail truck Me vs. The Queue movies personal correspondence poetry postcard postcards postcrossing random Reading school self-portrait sendsomething sex stamps stationery The Boy video Vivian Wedgehead work writing
The Stuff From Before
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