"The irrational completes us."
- The Book of Lights, Chaim Potok


TERRIBLY SANE

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THE DIARY OF PETRICHOR




petrichor ['pe-trÍ-ko(r) or -tri-]
the smell of rain on dry ground.


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----RECENT ENTRIES----
- - Saturday, Apr. 22, 2017
- - Thursday, Aug. 07, 2014
- - Friday, Mar. 14, 2014
Alone By Lack of Self-Trust - Tuesday, Oct. 01, 2013
Yearning for Tears - Sunday, Sept. 29, 2013

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zwischen Friday, Mar. 14, 2014 - 01:11 mensch


IF ANYONE STILL READS THESE OBSCURE, QUIET THOUGHTS, MY GUESTBOOK HAS FINALLY BEEN FIXED.

I don't want to live anymore. I'm not going to find someone or something to live for. Live for me? And? I'm constantly weighed by the past. And the future i ls becoming increasingly darker. Stagnation, depression, and anxiety fills my present and living in the "now" isn't going to mean anything. Things are not going to become great with my family. And I am likely to be a drain on them for years to come. I was born not made to adjust well to society as it is. I am tired. Every day is just a game of distracting myself from thinking too much about myself and my life. I don't want to live anymore.

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ter∑ri∑bly 1. in a terrible manner. 2. extremely; exceedingly; very. [Colloq.]




















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