insensitive. selfish. irresponsible.
irresponsible.
lousy?
fucked.
this is not what i imagined for myself.
thursday's the big move; the big migration back to siberian waters.
you don't know how i feel. and honestly, neither do i.
if i still believed in god i would be on my knees in fervent prayer.
i would say, "please help me, i would do absolutely anything for some fucking help."
all i can stand to believe in is being unfortunate.
largely, all i manage is to fold into myself.
fold.
fold.
fold again.
until there are a thousand layers of myself, each more delicate and dark and blistering than the next.
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