It's just one of those weeks. The middle of one that dovetails into the next, and somewhere in between there's an encroaching sensation of "Fuck. Tch."
Y'know?
When the dissonance is backed up at the base of your skull. Packed so tight that you have to engage stronger and stronger distraction to relieve your mind of it. But deep inside the recesses of your subconscious, you are running away from the terrifying realization that you're a failure. Like a child trying to escape a beating you know is both coming, and deserved.
That's been this week and a half, so far.
8:44 p.m. - 2014-11-10
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Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
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Elliptical - 2018-06-25
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