Sometimes I wonder if people actually listen or just wait for their turn to talk. Conversations feel more like competition these days.
It’s strange how some people become memories so fast, while others stick around in the present no matter what.
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When I write, I realize I’m not talking to the world.
I’m talking to myself out loud.
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Once I stayed in a hostel where everyone left their doors open — it felt like summer camp.
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I’m more interested in collecting experiences than things.
They take up less space but mean more.
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