dimanche 11 août 2013

We fade to grey

And I'm an ungrateful child with leaking mascara and depressing recurring thought, a blood-thirsty baby whining for her dose of daily despair, and I have no one to heal, no traumatized fucker setting stray cats on fire, no fucked up boy smoking cigarettes that I could at least try to understand. Hell, I don't even have a stranger in a darkened room to fuck without him giving a damn about what's my favorite kind of ice cream. I have no one, nothing.
I have absolutely, indubitably no other reason to hate my life than... myself.

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