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stream of consciousness


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there is no loneliness greater than the loneliness that stems from having said everything. if i tried to talk to my friend or my therapist or my father about what's bothering me, it would be impossible for me to say anything i haven't said already. i could go to my friend and tell him what's bothering me and he will say, "oh *CENSORED* *CENSORED* *CENSORED* *CENSORED*, not this again". he has heard it all before, as has everyone else. the problems are very large and very unchanging and i have dissected the hell out of them and talked them over with everyone who will listen and quite a few people who won't, and i still cant figure out what to do about them and neither can anyone else. i have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow. it will be a silent session. i have already said everything there is to say. i have already told him everything i know about myself. i have reached into the depths of my soul and there is nothing inside there that can help me, no courage, no positivity, no nothing. i have glimpsed the core of my being and it looks like a jagged chunk of ice. to talk is to repeat myself. everything has been said already. i have said this before. i have said this before. i have said this before. i have said this before. i have said this before. i have said this before. i have said this before. i have said this before. help. what's new? nothing. i just have to keep doing this until i die of natural causes.

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