On the corner of exasperation was a part of me, so angry at myself, that I couldn’t break free of this neighborhood, the corner of shame was the version of me who was self loathing for even trying. The name of the neighborhood: guilt.
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On the corner of exasperation was a part of me, so angry at myself, that I couldn’t break free of this neighborhood, the corner of shame was the version of me who was self loathing for even trying. The name of the neighborhood: guilt.
Read More