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Quote by Gabriella Santos de Lima

“Mir wurde schlecht. So schlecht, ich hatte das Gefühl, ich müsste kotzen, und fragte mich, wieso die Leute einem nicht erzählten, dass Liebe körperlicher Schmerz war. Wie ein Tritt, ein Schlag, ein Stich aus dem Nichts.”

Quote by Gabriella Santos de Lima

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You make my Dreams

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Gabriella Santos de Lima

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“Living with akathisia is akin to enduring a relentless storm, where extreme anxiety, distress, and a distorted sense of reality besiege one’s being. The symptoms are multifaceted: dizziness, uncontrollable movements, overwhelming agitation that scorches the soul, leading to a sense of decay that seems to spread from within to the outside world. Fraud, deceit, theft, and abandonment by those who once provided love and protection add layers of torment, fueling an intense remorse. This condition cripples one’s day-to-day functioning, reducing it to a mere shadow of its former state. In our desperate search for any sliver of hope, many find solace in the confines of their beds, foregoing essential self-care or any semblance of self-love. The excruciating ordeal feels like a relentless nightmare, with regular flare-ups and an omnipresent sense of doom.”

“Every animal's perception of the world, constructed by its evolved sensory apparatus and nervous system to take best advantage of its environment, is subjective - there are no colors out there, as we perceive them, waiting for us. There is no sound - only waveforms. And perhaps the strangest fact of all: Outside our bodies, there is no pain. Pain is something we create.”

“You are who he made. Fine. And I'm whatever the horrors of my life made me. Fine. All our sins, our earned tragedies, all of it. All that damn pain. It's all here with us. It is us. And I'm sure it's all meaningful or hilarious or philosophical or deep or something or everything. We could spend our whole lives mired in the complexities. But really, compared to us--compared to you and me--what we have, or could have...all that pain we have...honestly Who cares?”

“Listening to Fournier's flowing, dignified cello, Hoshino was drawn back to his childhood. He used to go to the river every day to catch fish. Nothing to worry about back then, he reminisced. Just live each day as it came. As long as I was alive, I was something. That was just how it was. But somewhere along the line it all changed. Living turned me into nothing. Weird... People are born in order to live, right? But the longer I've lived, the more I've lost what's inside me—and ended up empty. And I bet the longer I live, the emptier, the more worthless, I'll become. Something's wrong with this picture. Life isn't supposed to turn out like this! Isn't it possible to shift direction, to change where I'm headed?”