I sit here wondering what happened to that great plan I had set out only four months ago. It seems that nothing can go right for me in these last two years. I haven't been able to sleep well of late, everything just kind of eats away at me from the inside out and the little bit eatting me outside shows on my scared body. I've pretty much lowered my
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Either way, misery is the nastiest paradox of all. You could die and it would end, or you can wait till it passes and you can look back and say you were glad you managed to live through it.
What is it that keeps you here? I like to think that for everybody who hasn't died yet, they've got some kind of hope going.
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