I’m Going To Be Honest

Everything terrifies and depresses me. Healthy relationships are swallowed up in complex complexes. Inferiority? Superiority? Both simultaneously? Not simultaneously. More consecutive. Alternating, re-alternating.
I’m scared I’m scared I’m scared. Of? Dying, ugly. My beauty will have faded away with no fame to speak of. Beat beat beat

This is not a natural fear. It is insanity. You are contemplative, caught up in a torrent of extremes. We gawk at extremes. The extremes become the norm. The norm becomes boring. Breathe breath.

I see other happy people. I’m not sure if they’re happy.

I’m still jealous of them. Jealous and spiteful. Jealous and unhappy.

It’s a welling in the pit of my stomach with no discernible cause, that good relations can qualm but not kill.

Every passing second is a regret.

In other news, popcorn: best with seasoning, or without?

 

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