Dabi๐ดโโ ๏ธ
ุงุชุฑุงูู ุนูู ููู
ูค/ูขูฃ
ุณู ุจู
ุง ุงูู ุงูู ูู
ุญู
ุฏ on the same side of the deal.... ูุฑูุฏ ูุงุญุฏ ูุชูู ุงูุนูุณ๐
ูู
ูุงุญุฏ ุจูู ููุฑููุงุ
Anonymous Poll
14%
ู
ุตุงุจ
34%
ู
ุชููู
51%
ุฌุงู ุงุดูู ุงููุชุงุฆุฌ
Forwarded from ุขููููููุฉ (L)
ูุณุชุทูุน ุฃู ูุคูุฏ ุฃู ุดุฎุตูุงุช ุฏูุณุชูููุณูู ููุณุช ูู ุงูุญูููุฉ ุฅูุง ุดุฎุตูุฉ ูุงุญุฏุฉ ููู ูููุงุฑ ุฏุงุฎู ููุณูุ ูู"ุฏูุณุชูููุณูู" ููุณู ููุณ ุจุดุฑุงุ ุจู ูู ู
ุณุชุดูู ู
ู ุงูุฃู
ุฑุงุถ ุงูููุณูุฉุ ูู
ูุชุจุฉ ู
ู ุงูููุงุณูุฉุ ูุณุฑุจุง ู
ู ุงูุฃูุจูุงุก ุงูู
ุชุฏููููุ ููุทูุนุง ู
ู ุงูู
ุฌุฑู
ููุ ูุญููุฉ ู
ู ุงูุฃูุจูุงุก ุงูุงุฌุชู
ุงุนููู ูููู ู
ุชุญุฏูู ูู ุดุฎุต ูุงุญุฏ. ูุฑูุงูุงุชู ููุณุช ุฅูุง ุงุณุชุนุฑุงุถุง ูุชู
ุฒูุงุช ู
ุฌุชู
ุน ุจุฃูู
ูู ุญูู ุชุตุจุญ ุชู
ุฒูุงุช ูุฑุฏ ูุงุญุฏ
- ุญุณูู ุงูุจุฑุบูุซู
- ุญุณูู ุงูุจุฑุบูุซู
I was used to my mind being my best friend; of carrying on endless conversations within my head; of having a built-in source of laughter or analytic thought to rescue me from boring or painful surroundings. I counted upon my mindโs acuity, interest, and loyalty as a matter of course. Now, all of a sudden, my mind had turned on me: it mocked me for my vapid enthusiasms; it laughed at all of my foolish plans; it no longer found anything interesting or enjoyable or worthwhile. It was incapable of concentrated thought and turned time and again to the subject of death: I was going to die, what difference did anything make? Lifeโs run was only a short and meaningless one, why live? I was totally exhausted and could scarcely pull myself out of bed in the mornings.
- An unquiet mind, by Kay R. Jamison
- An unquiet mind, by Kay R. Jamison
Forwarded from Dabi๐ดโโ ๏ธ (ู
ุญู
ุฏุนูู)
ุฎูุทูู ุงููู
ูููุชู ุนูููู ููููุฏู ุขุฏูู
ู ู
ูุฎูุทูู ุงููููููุงุฏูุฉู ุนูููู ุฌููุฏู ุงููููุชูุงุฉูุ
Forwarded from Dabi๐ดโโ ๏ธ (ู
ุญู
ุฏุนูู)
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Apparently With No Surprise
To any happy Flower,
The Frost beheads it at its play,
In accidental power.
The blond assassin passes on.
The sun proceeds unmoved,
To measure off another day,
For an approving God!
By Emily Dickinson
To any happy Flower,
The Frost beheads it at its play,
In accidental power.
The blond assassin passes on.
The sun proceeds unmoved,
To measure off another day,
For an approving God!
By Emily Dickinson