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• My Life As Myself •

The creator of this blog is currently trying to be a proper adult. Here, they try to figure out life through photography, writing, music and the occasional existential crisis. Enjoy.

• My Life As Myself •

The creator of this blog is currently trying to be a proper adult. Here, they try to figure out life through photography, writing, music and the occasional existential crisis. Enjoy.

Nymeria

Nym isn't like the other girls. Nym doesn't care much for colour in her wardrobe.

She likes to smoke thin, black cigarettes between morning classes. 

You'd feel the need to think twice before getting closer, but she's really the sort of person who always lets you borrow her lighter with a half-smile on her lips.

She's never scared of speaking her mind, but when it's about her own tears, she'd rather cover them with a kind of characteristic, fake, casual anger.

So you sort of make it out like you might have done something wrong, that she doesn't want you around anymore. But you worry anyways, because you can see she's hurting. You think about her so much, you start to hurt too.

Despite all this, the next time you see her, she'll appear to be just fine. Nym will come to you or you'll walk up to her, and you'll both be smiling and joke around for a little while. But you'll always know there's still a quiet scream for help hidden in her eyes, and you won't be able to do anything but hope Nym knows you're drowning together.

 

 

 

 

 Love & Summer Wind,

TheBassGirl-182

 

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