When does it get better?

It’s been shit. Frankly, it’s all been shit.

I wish I had a closet, in which I could just hide and travel to Narnia, and be there, where nobody knows me. Nobody knows the baggage, the history, the troubles. I’m just a nobody.

And for the first fucking time in my life, I’d rather be a nobody.

Maybe I’m doing something wrong? Maybe I don’t have enough happy memories to look back up on. Or maybe, I don’t make the effort to make new ones. I never did.


Maybe, it get better when it’s all over.


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