Sometimes I wish I weren’t born. This
pettiness of the world, it often gets me down. Am I above all this? I don’t
think so. But sometimes it all looks so petty. In those moments, I wish for
something detached from all this human pettiness, something higher and
inanimate and only conceptual. Something like a colour and a vision, an
infinite field, giving me a feeling, a far-away feeling, as if in a dream.
I know that’s not possible, but I swear by
whatever power that I am tired and sweaty with all this grueling pettiness. I
just don’t give a shit. I want to break free.
There’s so much of me that I’ve lost. No
one can bring it back again. I am so terrorized all the time, like right now.
Fearing aggravation, aggression, conflict. I am not meant to be here.
So, so petty. Could you imagine actually
counting the number of pictures? God, lead me from here.
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