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I'm Not Emo

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Feb. 4th, 2009 | 11:07 pm
mood: tiredtired
music: Hot Hot Heat - So So Cold

The collapse of my primary ideal, proof that there are in fact no "raindrops on roses" or "girls in white dresses," has imposed on me a series of peculiar and contradictory compulsions which inflict their symptoms upon me with the likeness of manic depression. Like a drowning victim, I try to grab anything unfortunate enough to be within my grasp, yet with such passive aggressiveness to render my attempts ineffective. I pathetically yearn for impossible attention and acceptance with a fervor not seen since pubescence. Alternately I am moved towards solitude, and personal development which, having never really developed a craft for myself, presents itself as a microcosm of failures which I have accumulated throughout my life. I am desperately seeking to fill the sinkhole that was created, that has abolished the place of safety that I had always relied on. Perhaps knowing just that fact would have been enough reason for her to leave me.

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