The sun is bright and my natural clock is on time. But that’s not why I wake. Through an open window floats a woman’s voice on a cool autumn breeze. ‘I’ll fucking kill you…I fucking hate you…you’ll pay for what you’ve done!’ I toss the heavy blankets from my naked flesh. Life is always marvellous.
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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