Beaches N' Blunts
Things I don't say out loud, but write anyway.
about
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Love and mourning are threads of the same fabric; to hold one is to honor the other.
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Sometimes growth isn’t loud. It starts as a single skip in the song you’ve been living.
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What is the meaning, and the secret behind wealth? What is the price for wealth?
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The world is a book,We were never meant to settle in a cage.Each path we choose scripts a new phrase,A journey that outlives every page. The wind carries stories we haven’t heard,Carved into mountains, whispered through trees.The stars don’t wait for comfort zones,They rise for those who chase the breeze. We were born to wander,…
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Breathing hurts.Chasing hurts.Staying hurts.Loving hurts. But not breathing isn’t peace.Not chasing feels like grief.Not staying feels like regret.Not loving feels like loneliness. Leaving hurts.Trusting hurts.Betrayal hurts.Letting go hurts. But not leaving is being stuck.Not trusting is isolating.Betrayal means you once believed.And not letting go, that hurts the most. The Blunt Siren Subscribe to know when…
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Healing isn’t aesthetic.Some storms deserve to be named after exes.I lit sage and rage in the same breath.It didn’t cleanse the pain, it clarified me. Smoke curls like old memories, thick and unresolved.I tried to burn away what I couldn’t say out loud.But some fires don’t die with ashes on the floor, They live quiet,…
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Life isn’t always easy.You wake before the sun,Counting dollars for the roof overhead,Still dreaming of the stars yet to come. You work to survive,But your soul aches to thrive.There’s a version of us in a parallel place,Still dancing barefoot on a midnight shore. They told us, “Hard work pays off,”But never said in what currency.So…
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No gentle muse, but a chosen, hazy peace.Then bloomed a quiet, where the mind could see.Each “should’ve, could’ve, would’ve” finds a stark release.The inner landscape, a raw reflection looking back at me. A vibrant journey through life’s intricate gate,The space where déjà vu is a movie.The breath ascends, a silent, humble prayer,To face myself, in…
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Dreams are fickle, bringing children to space,A name in lights, a headline made.Chasing purpose with untamed vigor,But time rewrites with gentler shade. The voices say “no,” but still you climb,High on the thrill, the rush, the peak,Where skies were wide, and odds were thin.You chase the edge others would never seek. But when the cliffs…
