Crashing into the trembling void Stretching my hand to you Losing myself to frigid regret Is this fragile love A way To say Good-bye
I'm losing myself trying to compete With everyone else instead of just being me Don't know where to turn I've been stuck in this routine I need to change my ways Instead of always being weak I don't wanna be afraid I wanna wake up feeling beautiful today And know that I'm okay 'Cause everyone's perfect in unusual ways You see, I just wanna believe in me
No, I won't try to escape myself by losing myself in artificial chatter 'Did you have a nice vacation?' 'Oh, yes, and you?' I'll stay here and try to pin that loneliness down.
I identify myself in language, but only by losing myself in it like an object. What is realised in my history is not the past definite of what was, since it is no more, or even the present perfect of what has been in what I am, but the future anterior of what I shall have been for what I am in the process of becoming.
The eruption of lived pleasure is such that in losing myself I find myself; forgetting that I exist, I realize myself.
I was a real daydreamer at school, gazing out of the window and losing myself in imaginary worlds.
I had to make some drastic choices to avoid losing myself.
I cannot solve the problem of life by losing myself in the problem of art.
When I was a child I devoured every book I could get my hands on. I loved losing myself in colourful and dramatic stories - and my absolute favourite was 'Charlie And The Chocolate Factory.' Everything about it electrified me, and when I re-read Roald Dahl's books as an adult it surprised me.
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