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Is it going to work?
Are you going to save me? From myself? From the world?
Do you even care? Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no.
Sometimes, you cut me, and I bleed, for I am human.
You do not understand me. truly understand. Do you want to? Do you want to understand?
Do you enjoy cutting me? Do you enjoy my pain?
I wish I could see inside of you. I wish I could soothe your innermost fears. I wish I could save you from yourself. From the ravages of time. From this cruel, cruel world.
The person for whom this is written will never read it. This person is someone I love very much, but I could never share this with them — for there are certain things one does not share with family.
I shall go back to my podcasts now and think. I hate my thoughts. They scare me. They hurt me. They very rarely help me. I wish I could deal with these random bouts of anxiety. I wish I could do that, but I do not know how. “Take this pill,” says the doctor, and the pills help me sleep, but they do not take away the thoughts. The self-defeatist, very intrusive thoughts.
I wish my wee dog could live forever. I wish my father could live forever. What would it be like to be immortal? Would it enthrall? Would it cause fear? Wonder? What would it be like to die. Right now? Right here? Would anyone miss me? Would I be remembered? Do I have a legacy?
Only time will tell, I think. Well, maybe I’ll hear from someone tomorrow. It seems everyone I want to hear from is avoiding me. Is it me? Am I too much? Am I not enough? All this self doubt. All this anger…. This fear…. What shall I do with it?
Put it in a box. Fight to close the lid. Shove it down!
Strain to keep it down. Keep it in. Don’t let it show. Never let them see. Never let them know…
Maybe it will be a better day. Maybe not. Probably not. Self defeating? Maybe, but how else shall I be? I don’t know how…. How to be…. Anything else…