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Because......sometimes I feel like I shouldn't exist.
...sometimes I wonder if I ever deserved having you around me.
...sometimes I wish I didn't exist.
...sometimes, I wonder why you stopped me, inadvertently or not, every single one of those times.
...sometimes I want everyone, everyone to just leave me alone, instead of being around me just to tell me what a robotic arse and a psychopath I am.
...sometimes I wonder why I didn't ask you to stick around, and why you still did.
...sometimes I can't figure out what to do to stop being afraid that you'll just run away, like everyone else.
...I will always wonder how you don't mind that I love you.
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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