Life is energy spent. It takes the same amount of food for me to worry as it does to not. Adversity is good. It carves the person I become. Wind makes flat land of hills; eventually. I’m no better than what surrounds me. I can resist, or I can move softly like a breeze, nothing stops it.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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