There’s nothing to do. I need to get out of the apartment. The walls are laughing at me. A side effect of entrapment. I’m a wild animal. I need the sky over my head. A breeze in my face. The sidewalk moving under my feet. In these brief moments I search for peace.
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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