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After two years of tearing at my hair, and sitting on couches pretending to watch TV but actually just looking past the screen dreading having to last through an average human lifespan; lamenting the fact that I am generally healthy and have no hope of that lifespan being cut short unless by my own hand, or murder, or some kind of accident; and being awoken in the middle of the night by a weak but arresting feeling of helplessness in my bones and my parents voices asking me what I was doing with my life, asking why am I so worthless and unproductive and referring the D's on my high school report card and saying "Maybe you'll meet that man on a white horse someday soon and he will take you away into the sunset"; and many fruitless attempts to right those feelings of meaninglessness, depression and paralysis; and laying, unbathed, in bed staring at the walls of dark bedrooms on summer days inbetween my scheduled working hours at retail establishments; the shreds of my life's experiences have gathered themselves up and amounted to something.

I am relieved.

22 August 2002 - 12:57 PM

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Oh, brother.