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i'm kinda just a ball of frustration and tension because i resent all of my first-order desires at this point and having any time to come up for air just makes me fucking miserable.
acknowledging that thought is so fucking humiliating and pathetic. it's revolting that i crave numb comfort.
it's all fuzzy now and slipping further away. helpless and inevitable. i have one route left the resist but i don't have the inertia or willpower to pull it off. but i've said that and been wrong about a few things, so who knows.