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Unless it bothers someone else.

I am not delusional enough to think that this little nonsensical blog of mine will ever amount to anything of value or worth. First and foremost, people just don’t read anymore. If they want to learn something on the internet they do it by googling a YouTube video where someone can tell them about it. I’m not judging, I do it myself.

But I know that posting every day for as many days in a row as I can is not benefiting me or anyone else. People I know and/or am related to in some way don’t even read the thing.

When I first started writing this post, I was going to say, “if I say what I’m really feeling it would piss someone off.” But as no one read this it wouldn’t matter. But I’m going to refrain anyway.

I know I’m not good at this. I don’t use big, flowery language, I don’t wax poetic on topics important to the world. I intentionally typo and use made up nonsense words half the time.

I’m also not a good wife or housekeeper. My house is a disaster because I work a full time job and my body has been slowing giving up on my for a decade. I’m probably not a good mother either. In fact I worry daily that she is somehow damaged because I’m her mother.

I am in fact damaged myself so it would be natural.

I’m not a good friend because I believe that if something feels one sided it is and there’s no point in putting in the effort if it’s not matched.

I’m not a good daughter because I’ve talked to my father one time in six months. It’s not because I don’t want too it’s because I’m lazy and hate phone calls. I love the old man, despite is silly old man ways, but I’m not good at being a daughter.

I’m not a good sister because I often feel like I’m being a bother and I don’t want to annoy people. Actually that’s 90% of my personality.

I constantly feel like I’m being annoying or weird or bothering someone.

I am cursed with big ideas and little of what it takes to make them reality.

I make promises I can’t keep.

I’m burdened with the idea that no one likes me but also wanting to be liked. Everyone wants to be liked, they can’t say they don’t. But I don’t like myself most days, how can anyone else like me?

One of my biggest fears is veering off the road and into the river to drown. I cannot swim. And the river is cold and people have died in that river. I’ve had nightmares about it.

But I’ve had moments where I wondered if everyone’s lives would be easier if the river and I finally met with violence and it took me on its endless in its endless depths.

But I prefer the cave in the mountains with WiFi and no people. Ah yes, sweet solitude.

More often than not people refuse to use their words. They don’t stand up for the cause, their cause. Themselves. They don’t open their mouths when they are about to explode. Instead they let themselves explode. It kills them or they kill themselves.

And then the people around them are the ones who suffer.

Unburden yourself. Lighten your load, release it into the abyss and onto someone else. Your words though not violence. Just thought I should clear that up. Speak it out. Write it down. Give it away.

There’s always someone who wants to listen, someone who’d prefer you don’t explode or implode.

For now, I will shut my pie hole. I will silence myself and my disastrous chaos. I will not burden the six different people who read this blog, different people each time really. Actually no one will read this as it is not fiction and will not have a popular tag.

But wait! Hark! The Harold angels sing! What. You’re not getting out that easy! I refuse to stop posting daily! Death or dismemberment against my will shall be the only cause of the cessation (I had to Google the spelling) of these posts. Because like my mother and father before me I am STUBBORN by Bob!

It’s going to get wild, and hairy, but here I shall remain.

Now it’s time to get my kid to bed.