(Side) effects

intended to write about something else but it didn’t feel right. How fickle the heart is. Just like love. Simple but we complicate it. Like people; (all of us) just messed up. Good but never good enough. Whatever we think, may not be what we really feel. So what is right? Funny how we can lose our (self) way chasing idealogies. Maybe I know nothing about this world. Every breath felt as close to death. Everything’s just one big haze. If I detach myself and let go, would that be a sacrifice?
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