This is all about me and my life, my shit of a life.
Today I was chatting with someone and we struck upon the cause of my fuckedupness. My childhood.
I'm sure there must have been some pleasant memories but they don't come easy. In fact I don't usually think of my childhood. The good times were at boarding school and away from the family environment.
What's fascinating is I easily forget the extent of the abuse I got. I can't have been that awful as a child but I'm sure it helped me become a cunt as an adult. It made me cold and heartless enough to try to kill myself and want to die. But then that isn't so terrible. It is rational sanity.
No wonder I want release from the mortal coil. No wonder I want an assisted death. No wonder I try to escape living and contemplating myself. Things are shit at such at profound level and have been so often. No wonder I'm a cunt. All this shit wears a man down, burns them inside and slices out the goodness to leave an evil heart.
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