Anonymous
Being called an idiot my whole life and thought of as such, I'm used to expecting the worst. I'm arrogant enough to want more for myself, chronically frustrated that nothing is supposed to be straightforward. Disgusted at others for living straightforwardly, yet too pretentious to work for those thoughts. It's not even artistic for me. I'm tired and slow. I don't want the things that people crowd around for, though I never considered myself as different; I'm only skin apart from them, and that's part of the issue. I'm only skin apart, yet feel so distant and strange. I'd rather imagine my body inhibited by insects because the gutting without an opening is too bizarre to possess the words for, but I know I'm such a hack in repeating that. I don't want to be just happy and content. I'm not looking for anything in particular, now I hate blind people or the rich or poor.
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