A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret suffering, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and cries escape, they sound like beautiful music.
| Kierkegaard
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Thursday, February 16, 2012
I hurt myself today to see if I still feel....I tried to love the sea but he didn't like me i tried to kiss the wind but he chose to pass by the tree i tried to drown myself , but the waves were far as i can see
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