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good morning everyone, hope you all have a great day
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@sharberryyy

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I posted this photo on my instagram today with the caption “it’s been one of those weeks, but that doesn’t make it a bad month, or a bad year, or a bad life.” Shortly after I got a comment that said “But you’re so cute. That should make you smile!” and while I know this comment was made in an attempt to flatter me, and possibly to boost my spirits, it actually infuriated me. As if me realizing that I am cute could suddenly change the fact that my parents don’t belong married anymore, or give me piece of mind regarding my health, or allow me to come to terms with a memory issue I’ve battled all of my life that has been shifting recently. It won’t change the overwhelming emotion I felt when a feather jolted a memory I didn’t know I had… didn’t know I was capable of. A feather brought me to tears today. A god damn feather made me absolutely lose.. my.. shit. I won’t even begin to explain to you how hopeless that made me feel. But while any of these things individually - not to mention cumulatively - would be reason enough to stay in bed all day and cry until I had absolutely no tears left, I continued on. I continued reading about feathers, and down, and spun yarn, and filament yarn and I went to school and took my test and tonight I’ll go to a concert and enjoy myself. And I’ll do all of that not because I’m cute. I’ll do that because I am capable. I am tough. I am a fucking mystical fairy creature and I leave pixie dust in my wake and THAT is why I’ll be ok and it won’t be a bad month, or a bad year. Or maybe it will, but I’ll still be ok. And not because I’m cute.