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Why do I do this to myself. I create this monstrosity of pain and grief and then I wonder why I'm so sad. I wonder how I got this way, when in reality, it happened because of me. I knew all along. And it's all my fault. And I can't do anything about it.

"Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright. Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, rage, rage against the dying of the light." One of my favourite poem by Dylan Thomas.

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I think this would be so great as a tattoo - I <3 this so much! The colors and the desin are beautiful!