do you know those dogs obsessed with specific toys? that's my mind fantasizing 1000 events with her. she's so toxic for being with that guy and not me. at least i can have my feet on the ground. so it's comical to think but tragical to consider if i wasn't able to distill reality from delusions. if i actually can say that with a secure sure. anyway, i'm on a phase where i'm moving away but she really doesn't want me to. so then i try to think about her with hate. i don't want to stop waiting too. what if there's a chance? the more psychology podcasts and the more i let birds and other natural things influence me, the more giving up makes sense. i have to because i can't miss the beat with angels starting their bios with something like "kommer du att skicka dikter" and i can't miss to endure my bio words "strengths: none. weaknesses: angelical baddies"

so i'm with my fingers on the trigger to separate all my blog posts with a bunch of dashes ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- and write without a hyperlink: "in my Elin era" or maybe "in my Louise era" and if i ever found love and everything that i feel actually turns out to be, my special thanks to Giovanna for being the kickstart of loving the idea of caring. i thought i was sure on the give up from finding a pookie to squeeze back in ~ 2019 and i can't help myself on not getting inspired to type this post and to not think on her, more and more not as someone i wish but as some type of entity that came to open some doors, much more after reading this passage of 'Summer on the Lakes' by Margaret Fuller

M. You talk as if you had always lived in that wild unprofitable element you are so fond of, where all things glitter, and nothing is gold; all show and no substance. My people work in the secret, and their works praise them in the open light; they remain in the dark because only there such marvels could be bred. You call them mean. They do not spend their energies on their own growth, or their own play, but to feed the veins of mother earth with permanent splendors, very different from what she shows on the surface.