Tuesday, August 21, 2007


How does one measure exactly how much of a failure one is?
Does one look at every one of the people one studied with and see where all the others are? Does one compare jobs and relationships and the number of extracurricular activities they are all involved in? Does one take a long hard look at ones (one's? ones?) existence and realize that one has, for the price of being a pleasant and likeable and easy-going human being, given up every talent and every aptitude to settle for an obscure unquantifiable useless resource?
One is a failure.
One can no longer sing, write, speak or act worth anything. One is no longer better than anyone at anything. One is, in fact, a talentless and unskilled muffin who is content to spend her life marvelling at mundaneness like a fat retard.
One has no job, no dream and no future. One has no ego.
One wants to die.
One wishes to fade away.
Oh, wait. One has done that already.

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