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September 1 thoughts

September 1, 2025

This is hard. 

This is just fucking hard. It just won’t stop returning. 

I spiral and spiral and I just know, at the bottom of these spirals, that I’m not supposed to have lived, not supposed to live; I know that I do not contribute enough to be worth the space and time I occupy. I am a failure in evolution’s path. At least I had the good sense to not reproduce and add to the problem, but that’s not enough to earn a place here. I don’t deserve anything good I have. My own mind tells me I should be buried alive to suffocate, to rot and at least contribute to the ecosystem with my death.


No poem this time. Things need to be said but I just don’t have the capacity to attempt any sort of poetry about it. 

“Everyone’s got something”, right? Well, if everyone’s got “something”, maybe we should all be free to talk about it and share what we’ve got, so we can all help each other, instead of making it a constant comparison to see who’s more worthy (i.e. in need) of care than others.

Published inJournaling

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