Though outwardly I may appear to be happy really and truly, I’m dying inside. There’s that one straw that breaks the camel’s back or so they say. If so.I welcome the straw and the harbinger of death. Waiting patiently for that straw. Then I’m gone and I will not suffer anymore.
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Sometimes I run around in the Rain Storms with an Iron Fence Spike.
You’ve reminded me of something that made me chuckle at the time. I was asked how I’m always able to be so calm and collected. I was surprised I seemed so at first, but I eventually settled on the answer that
‘No one or thing could possibly do anything to me even remotely comparable to what I do to myself.’