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Question of
What is your favorite color? (without actually naming a color.)
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The shade of a summer field at its most defiant—when the sun hits each blade of grass just right, and the earth sighs in photosynthesis.
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The whisper of moonlight on untouched snow, silent and barely-there, like breath against a mirror.
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That bruised moment just after sunset, when the sky can’t decide if it’s mourning or dreaming.
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Ink spilled in a hurry—intentional accident, thought turned tactile.
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The glint on a beetle’s back, unexpected and jeweled, like armor with secrets.
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A dream that won’t let go when you wake up, clinging like silk and shadow.
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The flicker of a streetlamp in fog, lonely but loyal, trying to make something out of nothing.
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A child’s balloon lost in the sky, defiant against the blue, buoyant with laughter.
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The part of the ocean that doesn’t want to be touched—deep, slow, older than language.
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What ancient clay might remember—sun-baked, story-soaked, crumbling at the edges.
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Question of
Do you struggle with relationships?
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Yes. And still, I clutch it all like it’s the only thing keeping me from sinking—every word, every moment, every fading version of what we were. Even when it’s already fallen apart, I gather the pieces like they’ll make sense again if I just hold them tightly enough. I convince myself that if I stay still, careful, devoted, maybe the cracks won’t spread. Maybe what’s broken will forget how to break. But deep down, I know—some things slip through no matter how tightly you hold on.
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Yes. Everything I once held feels like a ghost now—familiar shapes fading into nothing, one by one. With every ending, the world feels less solid, like the ground itself is pulling away beneath me. I try to pretend I’m whole, but the truth is quieter: I just want someone to stay. Not to fix it, not to save me—just someone who won’t disappear when the light changes.
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I don’t know why, but people seem to like me—more than I expect, more than I sometimes understand. They’re drawn in easily, like something about me pulls them close without effort. It’s not the getting close that’s hard—it’s what comes after. So no, I don’t struggle to connect. I struggle with what comes when the shine fades, when they’ve seen too much or not enough, when the closeness asks for more than curiosity can carry.
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Yes. I do struggle—because no matter how much I give, how hard I try, how close I come to perfect, it’s never quite enough. I shape myself into everything they might want, soften every edge, show up, stay kind—and still, something in me is too much or not enough. I watch people drift, grow cold, walk away, and all I’m left with is the question: what else could I have done? I don’t know why they don’t like me. I only know I would’ve loved them right.
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Nobody cares enough to stay long enough for a struggle…
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I don’t know anymore
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Question of
Are u a clingy person ?
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Yes
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No
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Sometimes when I feel like it
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Question of
To give or to receive?
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To give
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To receive
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Both equally
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Question of
To vent or to bottle it all up ?
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To vent obviously
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To keep it for myself until it eats me out alive
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Question of
The bare minimum will always be :
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The bare minimum for sure
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Something hard to get
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More than what it seems like
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Question of
Soul
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Mate
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Eater
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To soul
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Catcher
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Question of
Who else understands u the way u want and need to be understood?
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Only I can
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My mother / sibiling
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A best friend
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A lover
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Check your answers:
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Thank you for telling the truth even if it’s embarrassing and humiliating 🙂
I’m an arrogant, self-centered person. But changing takes good time (or would I?).
I dunno
Yo
..
Um
It was good
Yassss
Going to do another quiz now