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A Silver Stochastic Existence

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Because it hurts, because the pain never goes away. Feeling it in its unadulterated form broke my spirit, and this perdition of a cycle is slowly gnawing my insides. God help me.
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Impotence
Everyday is a battle. I dread waking up in the morning and sleeping in the early morning. I hate the fact that whenever I wake up I go into the same cycle no matter how hard I try not to. I try to lull myself into a pleasant dream free from the neurotic pandemonium that is my mind.

There's a physical pain associated with the anguish that I want to escape from. I avoid my room, avoid thoughts, shows, anything that would bring me back to that horrible cycle of pain but I discovered that I can't. It's my thoughts, I can't escape my thoughts.

I'm so sick of crying, of not having any purpose whatsoever for going on. I remember Angelina Jolie saying that she cut herself in her younger years to feel alive. I want to feel alive but I'm too cowardly to feel that. I want physical pain to overpower the psychological pain.

I've degenerated into someone like this. So empty, devoid of any wonderful feeling, I'm impotent for life. I have no capability whatsoever to feel alive in a non-existential sense. The unstable facade is crashing down.

I know this is a phase. I'm wishing this is just a phase.

confidence interval:
depressed depressed
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Leaving College
Years ago, I imagined myself leaving college, brimming with hope and having a certain sense of fulfillment. Instead, I'll be bidding it adieu with my spirit broken. I'll facing the world with a white flag on my hand.
confidence interval:
broken broken
* * *
Fuck you Paul Pierce.
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I want a do-over. I can't live like this. I can't live acknowledging the mistakes I've made. I can't.
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I finally noticed that the emperor really had no clothes after all.
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When do you hold on? When do you let go?

When do you let go of your ideals and begin to face reality? Should they be even mutually exclusive? Can you turn your ideals into reality?

I'm so confused. I've been holding off for so long and I've never questioned why I have been doing that until NOW.

confidence interval:
confused confused
* * *
Just four more games won and I'll be the happiest girl in the world. Kobe love, baby, Kobe love.
confidence interval:
excited excited
listening to:
Kool & The Gang - Celebration
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The Truth
It is a constant frustration. Hiding... repressing.... It's too much sometimes. I don't want to say anything, I want them to figure out on their own.
confidence interval:
confused confused
listening to:
Norah Jones - Sunrise
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I'm neurotic and paranoid. That's how I've defined myself for the past three years. I don't wear those states as badges of honor. I'm aware that they're baggages that I'm better off without. And I believe the reason why I'm such as basket case is my nature as a soon-to-be active volcano (I'm fairly dormant...)

I have a lot of pent-up feelings, opinions that I've withheld for a long time. Some are pretty strong, acidic at the very least while some are petty.... well, all can be considered petty to some extent. I've always favored social niceties over honesty - the friggin' lonely word. Is honesty really the best policy?

confidence interval:
confused confused
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