Lindsey Mazur

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I scroll through Instagram. Someone I’m jealous of is always meeting someone I don’t know, going to places I’ve never heard of, listening to music I’m not familiar with. This feeling of being left behind, or that this person is special while I am not. Their posts are always so interesting, their expressions fresh, but what am I? Neither here nor there, which I hate.
I Want to Die but I Still Want to Eat Tteokbokki: Further Conversations with My Psychiatrist (I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki)
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