Arrows

December 29, 2014 § Leave a comment

We had to drive 8+ hours to visit our grandparents this Christmas. Fine. I love my brother to death, but sometime he has to start on some fucking talk, that really is a criticism, or feels like it. Very patronizing, very….ugh, pointless a lot of the time.

And the only reason it bothers me….it would still bother me but not to the same effect, is if I didn’t feel so fucking empty and stupid like I do now. This is going to be a horrible post and no one is going to want to read it. Least of all me, who is writing it, so it’ll be short. I think my identity has been so tied into academia and my intelligence. Not that I ever thought I was smart or any other expletive denoting that, but now…I’m nothing.

I can make people find me attractive. (For a day). And I’m not. People will fuck anything. But, right now, that’s all I’ve got.

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You are currently reading Arrows at the Bulimic Baker.

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