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Misery disassembly

by TheOpenRoad

I can’t believe what I’ve become. There is nothing left of who I was. I can’t stand people, because they are so full of plans for the future. I can’t imagine having a future, and the sixty odd years I could live yet scare me more than anything in the world. I exist on the whims of my organs. The thought that they are all that stand between me and oblivion never leaves my mind. There are emotions I refuse to manifest and others that make themselves heard. Thoughts wash over me as opposed to being thought. Everything occurs outside of myself. I am not the one feeling emptiness. I am not the one trying to sleep. When I dream, I am often in a haven where there is no language and nobody can ask anything of me. I feel black, like I’m rotting from the inside.

 

I want to end completely, cease to exist and truly be nothing.

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corvidaecorpse 3/31/2021 - 7:52 am

if you are nothing anymore, then you’re a blank canvas. you can choose to be anyone new on a whim. you’re free to fake amy

corvidaecorpse 3/31/2021 - 7:56 am

*any persona that you find amusing. personify a character for shits and giggles. think of the funniest or the most fuckable or the most [whatever] person you could be and make every decision on that metric. it sounds to me like you don’t *have* to be you, or to be a realistic person, anymore.

corvidaecorpse 3/31/2021 - 8:01 am

if you fail at being you, if there is no you left, why not be something more fun, for as long as it is worthwhile? who you are or how true it is doesn’t matter if you’re having fun with it.

TheOpenRoad 3/31/2021 - 10:16 am

That’s an idea lol. Maybe I’ll try it out.

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