Hi. I didn’t mean to leave you for so long. Life has a habit of getting in the way. And I have a habit of forgetting, I’m sorry.
I feel like something is wrong with me. Despite my uncertainty, this is not a new feeling. It’s a very old feeling, and in some ways feels older than myself as if it always existed, waiting for me to take shape into a form that it could burrow itself into. It sits and sleeps sometimes, the good times, but it doesn’t stay that way. I feel rejected. Maybe rightfully so. I do not know who I am. I feel like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a fake who has subsumed the thoughts and feelings of someone else, turning into a gross amalgamation. I look at my skin and feel as if it shouldn’t be attached to me, as if I was supposed to be nothing but exposed muscle and flesh. I don’t feel human, rather I feel like a disgusting imitation of a human and thus feel like I cannot exist with true humans. It is disgusting to imagine how other perceive me, a misshapen and poorly made being. I am torn between desires of hiding my figure away, to stay behind closed doors and stay under layers of fabric that conceal what I truly looks like, and the feeling of wanting to strip myself bare as if to present myself to the world as the failure I am, to make others look upon someone that should not exist. I feel like something has been wrong for a long time, and while I once thought that the repercussions of it had already impacted me, it seems that it still is.
CHUFFINGJENKEM 