Dispair

I feel horrible at the moment.

Am i simply an overdemanding arse, or are the "others" true?

I try to be as balanced, as fair, and as just as i can. all i manage to do is hold out my chest and wait for the knife to sink in.

Maybe I'm addicted to the pain.

Or maybe I'm just too stupid to do otherwise.

So once again, i write, and bare myself to the world.

And now i stand here waiting for the cleansing pain. Self-martyrdom.

Pathetic.