Dora didn't plan for her backpack to get this heavy.
Everywhere, Swiper is trying to sneak in.
There was only supposed to be a map and a compass in her backpack. Emotions sneaked in with baggage from past relationships.
I have loved and carried you since my eyes first laid on you.
Even if I can only interact with you in the dreamverse.
How to let go of you? I’ve tried left and right; spells, therapy, excavation to squeeze every zest of you out of my body.
It is time for you to leave and for me to move on. I’ve known that for a while now. It’s not that I never tried.
You've become this metaphor, inside my forever backpack.
My backpack analogy. The way I think about it is my anxiety is a backpack that I wear every single day. I take it with me every time. But some days the backpack is heavy and some days it's light and some days it really weighs me down and makes it super hard to walk through my day. And sometimes I barely notice it. But it's always there and I'm never going to get rid of it. — Jenna Fisher
To follow each other in parallel universes, like in that movie with the hot dog fingers. Except I don’t know which string connects us, if it’s the red or blue cable to cut you off.
All the philosophy classes didn’t prepare me to exorcise you out of my soul.
Some pills to keep you out of my mind, some to keep me awake, to put me to sleep, surely not too much, and some to give me a will to live.
Make sure to keep the path steady and not bother others. Your backpack will be fully adjustable, and you can even upgrade to a bigger one, but be careful because you can’t reverse your choice to your kids’ size one.
But don’t be sad, I said, that’s part of my job.
You entered my dreams through the door of my broken soul. Proceeded to lose the key to let you out. Anxiety locked you in my subconscious. I am yours, but you are not mine.
Quand les escaliers seront remplis de feuilles de papier, peut-être que les roches seront finalement en amour.
But for now, it’s time for you to go.