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ericboy's Diaryland Diary

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The Pyschology of Stupid

What can I tell you that you haven't heard before? That you intrigue me? That you puzzle me? That you make me examine myself more closely? That, with your eyes, I don't look as useless and repugnant as I regularly feel?

How can I explain what you've awoken in me? How do I let you know how you've changed me, helped me, enriched me? How do I say this all without frightening you? How?

Intensify the efforts; let's see the sun for the first time. I thought that I was born again but only born of sin. How can the rest of the world ever understand me when I don't even understand myself? How can anyone embrace me when I turn away from myself?

If I hold my arms out long enough, something will eventually fold into them. But, then what will I do? Fuck it up like I always do? Hold too tight? Breathe too hard? Open my stupid mouth?

The psychology of stupid: This is all I understand.

2:37 a.m. - 2003-11-30

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