It's like this cyclone, tearing me down and pulling me in, over and over. It seems that almost no-one else can see it or feel it but me. I mean, if they did, they'd understand, wouldn't they? They wouldn't try to make the cyclone worse, would they?
Swirling around in this tragic trance until nausea eats me up, I know I will never feel like I matter. But it's okay, I know there are times when the cyclone will stop and times when it will be utterly insufferable, but it's okay. It's okay.
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