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47

@era-vulgar / era-vulgar.tumblr.com

infp; australia
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Suffering a constant and debilitating fear that I will never understand the yearning in my heart and that nothing or nobody in this world will ever have the means of satiating it. Gravely accepting that I will and somehow must always look elsewhere for completion, validation, satisfaction - of which I am obviously incapable of finding within myself. Perhaps fate has already settled on a most deserved solitude as payment for the rot that I have allowed to grow within me and that compels me to act so selfishly and without heart. Why does my empathy so often hide away? Are we all struggling? Are we all doomed?

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Believe me, there is no such thing as great suffering, great regret, great memory… everything is forgotten, even great love. That’s what’s sad about life, and also what’s wonderful about it. There is only a way of looking at things, a way that comes to you every once in a while.

Albert Camus, A Happy Death (via philosophybits)

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