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pretend that focusing on making something will be enough to distract you. pretend the song is good enough to be life. pretend writing html will keep you grounded.
pretend that you can find that feeling you're looking for. pretend that you can grab it, that swirling mist of youth and dreams, the lights and smells and carnival rides, sunburns and humid nights and fireflies hanging on still air, the awkward dizzy moments and the never agains. pretend that smoking enough can get you there.
pretend not to feel the ocean crashing against the walls, the mighty roaring tides of primal harm and mutilation, the drowning emptiness at the bottom of the black hole ripping away shreds of your being.
pretend there's a future to fight for. pretend the past is the past.
pretend it's okay.