why is it that whenever i think things cannot possibly get any worse, they actually do? it is harder and harder to get back up. my thoughts get darker each time. and each time, a little bit of hope, a little bit of me, dies. i worry there will be nothing left soon, but an empty shell...
UPDATE: one day later, i dislocated and fractured my shoulder. someone has a strange sense of humour.
1 comment:
I don't want to start any blasphemous rumors.
But I think that God's got a sick sense of humor.
And when I die, I expect to find him laughing ...
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