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Alas, the scary thought…

…is that the switch had been turned on to reveal this unstable aspect of my psyche. Damn it. Damn it to hell!

She was a reflection of me, except she poured her heart out to me and I just listened, unknowing that she is a reflection of me. The difference being that she wore her heart on her sleeve and I imprisoned mine deep inside. When she left, I felt nothing. However, what was left behind was an opened gateway to my heart. Now, my perception is way off, my ultra sensitivity boosted by the broken anchor and I am taking things out of context.

I cannot tell what is real and what is fake pertaining to me anymore.

I once had Albert to reconfirm my thoughts and feelings. These days, I managed so well up until this point. No one else can reconfirm my thoughts and feelings, as I once did for his and vice versa.

I don’t want to think these negative thoughts because I have an excellent imagination. Yet, the part of my logic that dictates possibilities and probabilities has been boosted a zillion times over. Damn it to hell!

With this said, I may have very well been reading everything wrong from the beginning. I want to say, “I don’t know what to do”, but all I have to do is think about it harder and I will find solutions.

My time has passed. Back in the day, it was constantly proven to me. These days, my worth is personal.

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There is no left wing or right wing specific ideals here. It is as life should be regardless of society's squabbles and disagreements. I never said I strive to be a good person, nor did I ever say I will deliberately do people harm. I only said that I will do what needs to be done to survive in the world. The end doesn't always justify the means and the means don't always justify the end.

People from all shades of the political and social spectrum will find my content offensive. So my blog isn't for most people. It's for people closer to my spectrum of recognition and understanding. If you are an easily triggered reactionary conservative snowflake, then kindly fuck off. If you are an obnoxiously phoney liberal that consider yourself progressive but actually limit yourself to the matchbox-sized confinements of your isms, then go choke on your own crying snot juice elsewhere. You have been warned.

For the rest of you, welcome to my immodest abode. It's not smart, nor intelligent, nor wise. It's just life.