Recluse leads to loneliness.
Loneliness leads to depression.
Depression leads to anger.
Anger leads to self destruction.
The story of my life.
To turn mere mortals into Gods.
To watch it all come crashing down, like when the Titans got pissed off.
To realize there's nothing left after the wake. Just like each time. Same old trip it was back then.
To realize the small box that I decided to make my world.
It's an extremely claustrophobic feeling. Sickening to the stomach.
I'm always being told, I need to get out of my head.
But it's all I've ever had. It's kind of a fucked up relationship.
I do have a bunch of those under my belt.
"Dysfunctional." God, that word hurts. Like a shiny silver pin being pushed far into an eardrum.
Like a metal rod being pushed through my chest. I can see it gleaming red on the other side, it goes straight through the heart.
Fuck, do I hate shit right now.
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