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Feb. 4th, 2012 | 03:10 pm
location: home

I like the internets for being somewhat anonymous. Less than a year ago I thought about getting back on here a year later. That would have been May, but it is February now. It's not fair to do this not in May because I hate February (yes, hate is a strong word and so on) but I just genuinely despise the cold for various reasons and I simply cannot grow to like it however much I try. But alas I kind of have to revise my words from last year. I did not fix anything. In a way I am running more or less the same but for like five months I fooled myself into thinking I had a life that is really somewhat worth living. I wrote "I fooled...", even at that time I knew it would not last. I hoped, I wished, I begged the universe some "thing" would happen to make it last but I know life, I know reality as much as I like to run away from it and it did not last. I am bitter because I feel the same yet I am not. I guess it is pessimistic to think about this as a one time thing that might have really been just luck. A lucky coincidence. I do not believe thus I do not believe in fate. But I think I would need to jump, jump more for maybe lucky coincidences. Otherwise I feel damned and trapped in my so called life. And after all these years I still only marginally blame myself. The external factors still weigh so much more. It is no help being mad. It is no help feeling sad. It is either giving up or going on and right now I am going on but with deadlines close by. 

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May. 3rd, 2011 | 11:10 pm
location: home
mood: jealousjealous
music: silence, the fridge

No, I don't really believe in the "Your time will come." Mine is over. Either a miracle happens (which I don't believe in but since I just wrote "I don't really" it implies that I do have a tiny bit of hope left which is mostly just fueled by imagination thus it is not reliable at all...) or I will end up.... I DON'T KNOW THE FUCK WHERE. NO CLUE. AND THIS, "my fine furry friends", is the rather sad ending to a life that I wanted to live but now I don't know how. I don't know where to start with fixing it. I don't know where to start to change things. I don't actually know if it is even possible to fix it or if I was really right when I wrote....

"When I was thirteen / fourteen / fifteen I was killed for the first time.
When I was sixteen I guess I killed myself."

Edit: In my dark moment I forget to rightfully quote - unquote Garcia. 

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