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Fragmented Self who wanders through life like a dreamer and wades through the river of dreams as though it were the only truth left in this world
Confession
I haven't been taking my meds lately and I feel it. I feel the difference. It could be compared to an unstable isotope. It has energy that fluctuates more than normal and things are harder to pin down.

I dream again. I don't think they are correlated but I celebrate it.

I should be working on my Mafia stuff but I also know I have an essay I need to write. Thus, I do neither. Instead I think about my upcoming birthday and the devastating fact that I'll be 24. I hardly knew what to do with myself when I turned 23. I was determined to make it my last hurrah, but here I am. I am torn as to how to take this news.

This birthday, I want a kiss from a certain someone. I'm going to make it finally happen. Additionally, I don't want to be sad. I want a birthday where I don't think about old dreams and visions. I don't want to be reminded that I wanted to die, not this year. I can't be stuck inside; I need to get out this year.





 
 
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