Florrie's Garden
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❝ Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it. ❞
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I am Currently...
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Latest from The Notebook
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Published on 10.01.2025 • Reading Time: ≈ 05 minutes • 02 Comments
To make sense of ourselves, we often frame our inner narratives as an unfolding story. Our past, our constant becoming, our idealised ending. They are the measurement we use to attribute to our lives a personal sense of progression and emotional growth. But they also entangle us in expectations and self-assumptions. But stories are not bound to having a single shape. They can meander, repeat themselves rhythmically, and divide themselves into verses. And these are the stories I always loved most. This is a reflection about the necessity to escape through the margins of our own story. For me, this led to the conclusion that I wanted my life to be amorphous and authentic like a poetry book, not a novel. ꒰ Read+ ꒱
Other Blossoms...
© Florrie's Garden • 2024 - Everblossoming
Aromatic :: Wild Gardenias
Rabbit Hearted :: Blanc de Hotot
Flora :: Wild Hyacinths
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Aromatic :: Wild Gardenias
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