disappear here

I don't want your liking, your respect, or your reliance. I want your friendship.

--

So, okay, fuck it. I'm probably depressed (again) and I can't pinpoint it on a single thing like I used to be able to do, which is either a sign that life has gotten more complicated or that I have or that my mental capacities are failing me. I pick option number three.

I worry too much, and okay, you were right all along. Rub your nose in it. Gloat and gloat and gloat and then look at yourself in the mirror and see how unattractive hypocrisy is. See how disillusioning it is to find out that you are what you hate.

See how it doesn't work when you act like a child and it doesn't work when you act like an adult and the real world has no time for a middle ground so where do you fit?

I realize that, as much as I say I will make sacrifices, I'm really not willing to. It keeps coming back and if ignorance is bliss, then it really does make sense that I'm not happier. (I never was a fan of ignorance anyway, though I'm guilty of it.)

I don't like change. And I hate initiating it.

Make it work. Suppress it, oppress it, forget about your fucking worries and absorb yourself in your work, in anything so that your limited mental capacities are too busy to think about it.

That's how it works. It's substitution. Variables for numbers, personality for personality.

Dear real world, I live in a bubble, and you can't touch me.