I try really hard to identify with people.
I try so incredibly hard.
All the time.
I am finally sick and fucking tired of not being afforded the same liberties that I gladly give, almost tacitly.
That’s what you get when you say or write things.
Most days, I can deal with it.
Today, however, I don’t believe in anything I say about anything.
Apart from this, of course.
I just can’t do it, so maybe I should stop trying.
I’m probably depressed again.
HOW FUCKING PATHETIC IS THIS
LET’S JUST BE MISERABLE FOR NO REASON
IT’S NOT LIKE MY LIFE IS BAD OR ANYTHING
NOT LIKE ANYONE’S MAKING MY LIFE MORE DIFFICULT RIGHT NOW
Except for me. I’m doing it. To myself.
I am so doomed. Cursed, even.