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penelopie wilson

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translations

took my sleeping pills, otc, and am awaiting on the sweet release of unconsciousness. i have a gyno appointment early in the morning and need to get up early to prepare for it. a lady likes to go to the gyno shaved and groomed.

no gun was used today, but thought about frequently. these days never seem to get better, only worse. and it is becoming increasingly hard to keep up the facade i have built up. smile. be witty. funny. carefree. be whatever they want you to be…

just don’t be myself.

the more tired i become, the harder it becomes to play. masks become heavy when you are not properly rested. very heavy, indeed.

“take off the mask” you say? people don’t care for the real me much. it’s better to pretend to be whoever they don’t mind having around. when i am myself…well, i am not a likable person, i guess. i am unlovable. i have character flaws that i have not yet identified. until i identify my shortcomings, i will be what the people want.

what do the people want? well, what do you want? people like to be around people who are “happy”, yes? people who never complain or whine. people who don’t have any problems. so, i try to be that person when i am around others.

who am i really?

i’m quiet. i’m shy. i am so damn sad it’s all i can do to make myself wake up every morning. and each morning i find myself waking up, i curse God for having me live another day.

i hold in my heart and mind more self-hatred than anyone you will ever meet.

patiently i await my death. i have hope it will not come from my own hands…but little faith in that hope. i grow impatient and tired with this life. i never liked it…and my loathing for it just increases the more days i live.

i’m angry at God for creating me in the first place.

i write this stupid fucking blog so that i can have some sort of release, without having to actually tell another living soul anything about who i am. even here i pretend to be someone i’m not some of the time.

i’m a coward.

if i had the guts i’d have ended my life already. yet here i am, writing this.

drinking another cup of coffee.

not literally, right now. i am trying to wind down and sleep, presently. the sweet release of sleep.

here’s to hoping i don’t wake up tomorrow!

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