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ridiculous
3 weeks ago · 0
56
i am like a blind man in an art gallery. i am surrounded by wonderful things and yet lack the ability to enjoy them. instead my thoughts dwell ceaselessly on my appearance. i look weak, pathetic, every time i look at my own face i am humiliated by what i see. a pitiful creature. stuck somewhere between boy and man, despite being a fully grown adult. on anyone else i would consider it attractive, but on me it is alien.
this is not my face. this is not my body. i speak with a voice that belongs to a stranger, i type with hands that do not resemble my own. small and weak. if i were to hold a gun to a person's head, they would not think me capable of pulling the trigger.
i want to tear at myself, to rip flesh from muscle from bone until there is nothing left of this mockery of my existence. the fire of rage within me is only quelled by the ever present, all encompassing hopelessness. if i am to die in this body, may the living burn it until there is nothing left.
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