Feeling stuck is a yard full of suck. I know. I was just there. A prisoner of my own mind, I was held hostage of my expectations of what life should be like.
People should be collaborative. I should have been treated better when I was younger. Life shouldn’t be so fucking difficult. I should be able to figure shit out. I’m a burden. How do I disappear from this earth without hurting anyone? Fuck I wish I didn’t exist.
Hilarious.
Really.
Super fun.
The voice in my head was a fucking disaster. Being that dude who stuffs fetal pigs in zip lock bags to send to high schools all over the world would have been more attractive than listening to myself.
Yup.
There was a space for the last three weeks where I was about as fun as a factory full of swine abortions.
Oink oink.
Luckily there was another voice. This was my wife.
She read me some of my own shit. She reminded me how I remind people here to connect with others and see if they are saying the same shit about me as I was in my head.
In Monday’s
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