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My hands are healthy. They bear no bruise or abrasion; they shed no blood or bone. My hands are telling of something I’m very sure about, that being that when something has run its course, I know when to let go. I’ve had this form of realisation strike me in many ways in my…

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Once a month, my world ends. I mourn and I grieve a week before the chaos hits – and I spend the next week bleeding. And then, it’s over. All of it; my peace, my pain, my worry. I’m vividly myself again at the cost of my entire existence. Because once a month, my…

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This week, I found myself wholly inspired after reading a quote by Ehime Ora. She speaks of readdressing subdued pain by giving it a place to live – separate from your body. I think I was most moved by Ora’s words as she managed to articulate something I have been working on recently –…

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TW: Self harm. Something that’s been on my mind for a while, is how struggle is poised as romantic. The idea of being troubled is glorified through all kinds of media – music, film, books etc. To impressionable, underdeveloped minds, seeing this is damaging as it forges a distortion of reality – aesthetically encouraging…