Put me out.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like screaming. I feel like I’ve lagged for a thousand years. I feel like smashing someone’s face through the glass door, followed by loads of kicking in the gut. I feel like stapling someone’s mouth. Would you stop talking? Would you stop wasting my time and let me wallow in my self pity? Because if I were to pay more attention to you, I would be distracted from my misery. Then when I’m reminded of it again, my pain would be stretched longer and stronger. It doesn’t get easier. Everytime it happens, you’re aware of it and you try to fight it but it doesn’t go away. That alone makes it worse. It is a jagged pill. The more you swallow, the more mutilated your inside becomes.

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