So my husband, a month or so ago, told me to be careful when I'm out here alone because the streets are getting crazy and they taking everybody out here. That makes me think of Kuis. I wish he had been more careful, he didn't deserve what happened to him, but at the same time, I don't even think that was him being at the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean, he was, but I think that was a setup and they meant to hurt him. They didn't just shoot him and leave, no, those assholes beat him with their bare hands, to his death. I didn't write those post to talk about about that tragedy again, though. The point I was making was that I don't want to be careful, I don't feel as if I should or have to. God knows I want death too bad to just let it happen to me, or maybe it's the Devil toying with me, who knows. I try to fight off those suicidal ideations and death wishes but it is always there at the back of my mind, whispering, "Do it." Every time something happens, I think to myself "Why couldn't I have been hit by that bus?, or, "Why couldn't I have been that shooting victim standing on their porch?". I know it's not a healthy way of thinking, but as I mentioned before, I want it too bad for it to ever happen. I just get so tired of life, day in and day out. No matter how far I feel I've come and how good I think things are going, it is never enough for me and I hate it. I hate the way I feel so much.
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About the AuthorI got the idea to create a blog in December 2014 on a random type of day.Writing has always been therapeutic; the only way I could communicate clearly, in actual words instead of struggling to unscramble the swirl of images, metaphors & analogies that is my thought process. In short, Archives
February 2020
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