no matter how many times I tell myself “you knew it was going to be like this. you had dreams[nightmares] foretelling this. you always knew. yeah, you always knew. yet you were retarded enough to want to believe in a ‘forever’ fantasy and that unconditional love wasn’t something in a fucking fairy tale”, I still want to volunteer for the next lobotomy.
Apathy and I have become the best of friends. Somewhere in the process of recuperating from the past year (and 3 before that) I lost my ability to show emotion. This is an eerily similar feeling to how I was the first 21 years of my life, which if I may say, is a pretty enlightening thought and perhaps the only thought that i’m not completely apathetic towards.