A thousand tragedies per square mile 

Started on And The Mountains Echoed yesterday afternoon and managed to finish it briefly before I decided to start on this.

Some people have a bottomless hole they spend their life trying to fill, others live their lives shoveling away a mound of flaws and burdens; very little choose to walk around it and carry on. 

A lot has happened over the course of these few months, and these things have made it very difficult for me to not be skeptical towards people. How is it that I haven’t been seriously warned about the unimaginable consequences trust can bring? I am so worn out by lies upon lies upon lies upon lies. When will this stop?

P/S: A note to self to always, always keep records of conversations. Voice recording live conversations and phone calls is a must once I get my hands on a phone that can handle this mass of data. Must. Remember.

And I am a thousand kinds of depressed per cubic milliliters of blood, pumped lazily around my body by my ever-growing weariness towards myself. 


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