It's just a thought.

I understand a ridiculous amount more than I fool you to believe I do.  This isn't good, right, or smart on my behalf now is it.  Wow.  That's quite a way to start an explaination to something, huh?

We've all got privacy issues to some extent don't we?  Is there a right way to expose the deep rooted way our lives have subtly degressed, or should we just keep it remained our own individual personal little secret?  We are, to many degrees, sicker than our most digusting of secrets, in my opinion at least.

My secret life isn't necessarily what it's cracked up to be if you ask me.  My first thought of a desirable life behind closed doors is unrealistically optimistic, and actually quite simple.

After 33 years of life, I expected much more to be perfectly honest.  My poor choices postponed goals, as well as changed them.  Passions evaporate into thin air and become disapointed regrets as years pass.  Not doing something about what ever it was then, now, means nothing to me, more and more, each day. 

If I had the cognitive ability to do things differantly back then, I would've.  I've had an inability to refrain from irrational, and irresponsible behavior for as long as I can remember.  And, codependency covers more issues than I'll ever be clever enough to explain I'm afraid. 

Self talk must change they tell me.  Hmm.  What are my thoughts telling me right now, lets see.

I've got disturbing tendencies mixed with unwanted codependencies.  My thoughts race creating intersecting stories lacking plotts.  I'm three sheets to the wind again, just praying for an end.  Mistake after mistake and I've had all I can take.  I'm an unrespectable fool, unavoidably uncool.  I've been lacking motivation to work for validation of a respectable identity for a long time now.  I'm not paranoid.  People look through me.  I filter the stares, underestimating the impact of the fact that nobody really cares.  I'm off the charts now, feeling far less than zero.  It's just a thought, right?



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