so anyway anyone wanna run away to the seaside for your health because you refuse to speak or move because you can't bear to exist but slowly existence begins creeping in and even becomes bearable as i start talking to you and i tell you all my secrets and deepest regrets and we share the smallest most meaningful touches in the softness of the night until the lines between us begin to blur and we don't know where i end and you begin until even our husband can't tell us apart
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“Our social relationships are limited, most of the time, to gossip and criticizing people's behavior. This observation slowly pushed me to isolate from the so-called social life. My days pass by in solitude.”
— Ingmar Bergman, " Wild Strawberries (1957) [@silentroad ]
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