I've grown quiet, too quiet... But we both realize one real truth. No one cares anymore, I don't write, because no one reads. This was intended to be a deeper layer than most get from what they know of me and my other projects.
In just a few months time, I've burrowed into severely anti-social state. I don't even get on Facebook lately, because I don't see a purpose. It's funny to see people buried in their phones, constantly proving their self worth and keeping tabs on their "friends".
This is pretty directionless, like I've felt... Stepped away ling enough to realize some things, that made me feel like so much is just so shallow, I'll continue to do what I do, and be myself, but for now I'm doing it because I need to, not to make a deadline or please anyone, maybe that makes it genuine, maybe that makes me a dick.
There are at least 20 people out there that were told: "if you don't hear from me, I'm sick, send me a message and I'll reply, it'll help me, and you'll understand I'm not distant because I don't care" now, in the throes of sickness, what am I supposed to assume, when I don't get messages, it hurts less to stop checking at a point. My life at any given moment can be a great success or failure, usually it's both at once in bittersweet ways I can't even begin to explain. I always lose someone, or something to gain or to be creative, expression and loss go hand in hand. One again I've written in circles without a defined point, I just feel the weight of the world tonight, and it's crushing me.
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