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The only good thing
The only good thing about today is that it's over.
I ache with the pain of a thousand razor blades in my mind and body. I don't want to eat. I don't want to breathe.
And over here, there's immediate praise for someone else's fiction, but none at all for mine after over a month. Not. A. Single. Damn. Comment. Right, then.
Fuck it. This hurts too much. I don't know why I go on living or doing any of the meaningless things people do when they're alive. There's no point to any of it, and I'm so tired I can't even see or think or move straight anymore.
Nothing is worth this. Nothing.
I ache with the pain of a thousand razor blades in my mind and body. I don't want to eat. I don't want to breathe.
And over here, there's immediate praise for someone else's fiction, but none at all for mine after over a month. Not. A. Single. Damn. Comment. Right, then.
Fuck it. This hurts too much. I don't know why I go on living or doing any of the meaningless things people do when they're alive. There's no point to any of it, and I'm so tired I can't even see or think or move straight anymore.
Nothing is worth this. Nothing.
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Hell, I haven't had any comments on my stuff in *MONTHS*, except for one idiot who didn't get the point of "Under the Gun". At least he was civil about it, but his stupidity still showed like underwear lines under a catsuit.
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And I've come to never expect reviews. For reviews, one must write squeefic.
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I'm going to put up my phone numbers in a locked post now, if you want to call me. *hugs tightly*
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I wish I could do something to take away your pain and fill you with joy. Heck, I'd even settle for a mild grin or a slight chuckle. You're in my thoughts often, and I hope that this helps you, even a little.
The best thing about bad days is that they end. The sun will rise again.
*more hugs*
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