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penelopie wilson

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translations

today is a dangerous day. a dangerous day because i am in a dangerous mood. today is one of those days when i am standing too close to the edge, with no regard for my own safety.

jump, don’t jump. who cares?

i’m not just standing by the edge, i’m letting one foot dangle over the great unknown. will i slip and fall to my death? i don’t know. fact is, i don’t care today. do i care any day? i don’t know.

people have been coming at me with demands lately. telling me who i am, what i am and what they want. outwardly i am fine with it. inside, all i have to say to them is a giant “fuck you!” how about my demands? let’s talk about what i deserve!

but…silence is my best friend. silence never gets angry with me.

silence never leaves.

i’m in a mood today. an angry, fuck the world, fuck myself, fuck you sort of mood. why? sadness, i suppose. it would be nice if at least one person really saw me. it would be nice if i had one person who loved me for me, that i could just be myself with.

things never really change. life stays the same. small things move differently from time-to-time…but basically they’re always in the same spot.

sometimes i wonder if i am just fighting a fate that will exist regardless. death is an absolute in life. the way we die is up for grabs. i fight my own urges to do it myself…but in the end, what if that is how it works out anyway? it’s like when you’re nauseated and you fight vomiting. no one likes to get sick, so you do the heavy breathing and such. try to fight through the nausea and not get sick. but in the end, you throw up anyway. you’d have saved yourself so much time, trouble and pain by just throwing up initially. perhaps death, suicide, is similar.

i don’t know. i’m tired today. i’m tired and defeated.

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