i want so obviously, so desperately to be loved, and to be capable of love. i am still so naive; i know pretty much what i like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who i am. “a passionate, fragmentary girl,” maybe?
Reminder that spring will always come back, music will never stop being created, and there are still so many books left to read! You’re alive! You’re alive! You’re alive!
12 days left of school and i will be free forever... the flowers are gonna grow and i will get coffee on a sunny morning and i won't have to listen to a teacher praising ai on a tuesday at 7:50 am and i will not have to talk to 18 year old boys and i will be able to read books and and and
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