Do you ever wonder why you’re here on this planet?

I do.

Do you ever wanna giggle at nothing except for the sheer incredulous ridiculousness and meaninglessness of our human existence.

I do.

Do you ever want to cry at how much you hate yourself?

I do.

Do you ever want to draw over the body parts that you don’t like with red sharpie and a big X (meaning, this is dispensible, this needs to be dieted or exercised off me)

I do.

Do you ever wanna drag a blade across your skin just to wake yourself up out of your current emotional nightmare, and make you realise as you see the red ink seep out that you’re still alive?

I do.

Do you ever wonder when depression will be replaced with a life of unending light spreading out into infinity?

I do.

Do you ever want to simultaneously hug someone and tell them to leave me the fuck alone at the same time?

I do.

Do you ever wonder why with all the advances in life, we still haven’t found a cure for basic human physical and emotional suffering?

I do.

Do you ever wonder why people with no morals or empathy, who commit crimes against fellow man, are still allowed the same human rights as those who have empathy and kindness and respect and morals by the bucket load? Do you ever ponder the unfairness of this?

I do.

Do you ever wonder what people would say at your funeral? Or even who would attend?

I do.

Do you ever try and make a list of your friends and who is actually good for you and who is a drain or who you are indifferent about, and let that inform your future social choices over who you invest your precious time in?

Maybe I will.

Do you ever wonder why you think you’re a nice person yet you write blog posts which are crude, raw, and sometimes aggressive in tone?

I do.

Do you ever wonder what will happen when you lose interest in life to the extent that you never question anything or care about anything or anyone?

I do….I think that’s called death.

So as I’m alive I continue to ask these questions. I continue to carry the burden of my own pain and the pain of many other souls. I stumble on, as unsure as I was as a little girl at primary school.

You may get older, but nothing fundamentally changes.

Your vocabulary used to explain the confusion in your head just gets more sophisticated and refined.

You get to a point where you are old enough to explain your epic confusion about life in a way that is so fucking sophisticated and insightful and crammed full of externally validated wisdom…

and then you die.

And no one knows how much you never learned.

That is life and all it’s politiks.


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