Ah, at last: me again.

Will you posts this on Facebook as well?

This is the pity collection agency, you have the following amount due…

I keep on coming back don’t I?
To the solitude, the insanity the randomness…

“Little did she know, years later, the same nick name she conjured up one eventless night would come back to haunt; moreover, it would precedent her entire life as ‘the girl who wasn’t there’.”

This is a gold mine, folks. If I interest someone enough to stalk me, all these little clues could be pieced together and my carefulyl crafted aliases online could be detected and pieced together, like that!
I’d be flattered if someone went through all that trouble though; even if they murder me at the end.

Names. Are they precedents of our lives?
I mean, come on. My name is horrifically ironic enough as it is.
And it wouldn’t be if I never moved.
Why did I?
Why does anything happen?

Fate? I entrusted full responsibility in fate when I was a child.
A lot of things I thought, or knew, or thought I knew as a child were so much more concrete than they seem now.
Did I deteriorate? Do I overcomplicate? Is my mind so open to all possibilities that all knowledge becomes obscure and falsifiable?

Perhaps and Maybe, are my only answers.

I’m confused bored, scared.
What else is new?
Fear, rules us all…

I will be free to do anything only if I’ve lost it all.
Now I have too much too lose to try to gain something that’s so out of my reach.

I will not dare to try… God I’m killing myself this way;
I’ve never been more lost.
Physical disorientation is preferred. When I got lost it was my fault, control and blame was in my hands. Reality is now, gone, out of my hands. Everything is but a memory until I set my gaze on what’s in front of me.
I am not satisfied.
This is my concrete reality.
I have, these physical things, but I am not satisfied.
I wake up with a sadness, with a yearning that can’t be filled with the things I buy or eat.
A giant Bermuda triangle in my soul.

The solution is obvious, but suppressed in the back of my head.
I am too scared to do it… I don’t need rejection right now, I can’t take it.
Don’t make me.


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