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12:24 p.m. - 2001-07-25
inhumanity
If I identify with someone I'll never meet anyone who identifies with how I picture anyone identifying with my imagined actions. It's so cold. If I needed to be drunk before, I need to be loved now. Is this a wheedle? What is a wheedle? Is anybody really selfless? Why do we pretend that everything isn't at least partially for our own benefit? Let's be the first to admit it; we need love. What do we do to get it? We wish, we write, we spill, we search, or we invent. Why is this wrong? Why is it pathetic? Why, knowing this, do I still feel like I'm inhuman, that I need to change, that I agree with anyone who's ever called me overdramatic and I agreed, because I do, and it's a bad thing? Knowing this, why do wish for an easy spontaneous hookup that just happens to happen? If I have to be drunk to realize this, I wish I was a better human being.

 

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