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shame, though. від Vladyslav Hryhoriev
shame, though. when you say that you’re desperate, wanting to die keep shouting about it at bus stops, on streets, in bars; in your booze-soaked, smoke-stained apartment to all of your diaries, socials and blogs, and then suddenly you turn to whisper; muttering something just under your breath, yet somehow you aren’t in a hurry and outright refuse to tighten the goddamn noose.