One wonders about the ways of the mind. The crazy creation of thoughts. The emotions that flow. There are things you say and things you don't, not even to yourself. This is a make believe world of fake reality. There is nothing good or bad about it, it just plain sucks and I am tired of playing games and asking trick questions. I want some solitude if I can't get what I want.
There is a sense of hopelessness and a cynical irony to the feeling. An indescribable angst that just makes the wallowing in self pity so much cooler.
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