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So, now I shall talk every night. To myself. To the moon
I talk to myself and look at the dark trees, blessedly neutral. So much easier than facing people, than having to look happy, invulnerable, clever. With masks down, I walk, talking to the moon, to the neutral impersonal force that does not hear, but merely accepts my being. And does not smite me down.
-Sylvia Plath
Fcking Pricks.
I am so fucking angry and fed up. Why do they keep sugar-coating it? I want the ugly truth. I can handle myself.
Zilch.
I can't believe I'm at the point where I actually miss feeling something.
Black Wave (repete)
And it seemed so hard to believe that these people who were so close to me couldn't see how desperate I was, or if they could they didn't care enough to do anything about it, or if they cared enough to do anything about it they didn't believe there was anything they could do, not knowingor not wanting to knowthat their belief might have been the thing that made the difference.
© 2013 - 2024 mikeybabyisvintage
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