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there used to be definition, but I lie here, my bones like jelly, read to be trampled over. There is no shape anymore, the decay makes it unrecognizable. I've become nothing but a freeform existence that will uniformly take shape and give way to the stretch, twists, and strains that are associated with fitting oneself. The structure has disappeared.
it's like a good shirt without the mannequin. it's just cloth on the floor after that, and it will be stepped on with no regard until somebody has the decency to give it even the smallest temporary support, like a hanger, to a real body. the real body is proud of the shirt, excited for it, and may even find it timeless. It's a one of a kind item, and you and that shirt fit perfectly. You don't know what you've deemed undesirable. You may give that shirt away, and see it on another person. Maybe, it'll look better on that person. Or you'll realize that the shirt was great, it's better on you, but what can you do? It's tough to get items back on demand, especially if its well loved by the other.
I am insulted. You don't have any idea how much I try to add excitement and adventure, within our constraints. It's difficult if there are only 4 locations to go to, 2 require money and 2 have little or no activities. A suggestion of mine is always accepted, but rarely do I hear a word from you. It's become a one man operation. There is no other explanation as to why I have all the directions, why I study up on the locations, and how I'm left with deciding. Don't say I was boring if you couldn't make an effort to lead me around once in a while, or take the initiative to introduce me to new things more often. Show me a good time within our constraints and I'll show you how difficult it can get. That's something the cloth must give way to.
The cloth is now with the wind. It can fly far off to another place, or the wind can simply direct it back to you. Maybe somebody already caught it.
This is why I wish I understood your train of thought. Maybe then could this be saved... or maybe this is fate?
My name is Jen, and I'm a heartbroken teenager
EDIT: I understand now, and I will gladly wait for you for as long as it takes. Good luck :)
fuck it, giving up is what i'm good at and give up I shall. Cause in the end, life is a bitch, and mine is fucked like one :D
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