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amidthedust · 4 years
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amidthedust · 4 years
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amidthedust · 4 years
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somebody else, the 1975
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amidthedust · 4 years
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amidthedust · 4 years
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amidthedust · 4 years
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Zerkalo (1975)
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amidthedust · 4 years
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please help a lesbian who was brutalized by her mother
my friend was recently beaten by her mother for being caught with her girlfriend. she sent me a photo of her face. i won’t post it but it was incredibly upsetting. 
she is sleeping in her gfs car, in this brutal winter. it is incredibly incredibly dangerous. people die in this weather. 
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please donate to her directly:  paypal.me/alexziaCS 
she is trying to raise $650. if all the people reading this could slide her even one dollar she could be sleeping in a safe place tonight. 
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amidthedust · 4 years
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How;
How I am supposed to stop thinking about it all?
I open the window to let in the air, at night,
Still see you lit by the moon and the streetlights,
Still smell the leaves outside of your bedroom window,
Still feel the sweet air, hear the tires sliding against the streets,
Feel warmth, next to me, with me, for just a second.
I plug the lights in, at night.
I think too much, in the dark, you know.
I used to roll over and rub your shoulders, at night,
Kiss your cheek, brush your hair out of your eyes,
And feel quiet, again.
But then the lights remind me of the bedroom,
When I'd plug them in, and
Start the record player spinning,
When we filled the room with smoke and whiskey breath and
Something so very soft, and kind, and you were always
So very familiar.
Turning the lights off leaves me in darkness,
Reminds me I am here, in a body full of ghosts,
Somehow even more haunted than before.
There are ghosts in me that may never die, and
They feel a lot like dying lately;
One wears the face of the pool at my mother's apartment,
Another wears a moving truck,
Another a red guitar,
Another, and another, and another, and
Another, just a soft, certain smile.
They have been here, and they are all of it,
And how am I supposed to let these dead things die?
These things that are sunshine, and lightning storms,
These ghosts that felt like they could become
Almost all of me?
What will be left, without them?
I don't know
If there will be anything
Left.
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amidthedust · 4 years
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Even with all this,
I keep having dreams
Where you show up in the night to take me home
Sometimes
Waking up is so hard
And I know I shouldn't, but,
In the dreams,
I always go with you.
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amidthedust · 4 years
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I cant stop crying
I wish I'd taken the flowers or
A jacket or
Something soft
To hold
I always feel better when there's something
Familiar and soft and I just want to sleep
I just want to stop crying
But I have nothing of you and
I have nothing of me.
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amidthedust · 4 years
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amidthedust · 4 years
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10/12/19 (291/?)
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amidthedust · 4 years
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“learning to refill” by Ben Maxfield
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amidthedust · 4 years
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“learning to refill” by Ben Maxfield
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amidthedust · 4 years
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September 29, 1997 — see The Complete Peanuts 1995-1998
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amidthedust · 4 years
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amidthedust · 4 years
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Writing by James Andrew Crosby (@jamesandrewcrosby)
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