| Hannah I hate myself. I hate myself because I feel nothing. All around me, people's insides are corroding, and they're smearing themselves, their tears, and their problems all over everyone's lives. And I feel nothing. I cannot write, therefore I feel nothing. I feel nothing, therefore I cannot write. It's the circle of my destruction: Everyone's so busy feeling, while I'm so busy peeling off my complicated layers of emotions, distancing myself. And I hate myself for being this way. Hate is a feeling. This situation, this feeling, is so logical. |