I had a dream where both my dog and Morrissey died. And of course, because it was a dream, nobody else seemed to give a shit about their sudden deaths. So what? they said.
That was a horrible night, followed by an even worse day. For the first time in months (or 2 years), I tried to talk to people. I noticed that I am socially handicapped. My own insecurities and my general unhappiness make me dislike people very easily, and it is difficult. I want people to like me, because I need somebody to like me, and because of this need I end up saying nothing important and just joking around meaninglessly.
I can't talk to people and express my thoughts without seeming like a dick. Somehow I always end up sounding like a racist lunatic or something as ridiculous. And I'm one of those people who barely notice people's races.
After all that, I stopped and stared at my reflection in a store window and I realized that I'm really tired, just so fucking tired of being like this. I wish I was average in at least some way, or most ways, just for one day; all I ask is one fucking day of not being A LOT BETTER than everybody else in certain things and A LOT WORSE than everybody else in all the other ways. I'm not average at anything. Literally, anything.
Oh well. This was one of those darker days. I'm not usually this miserable in this way.
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