My latest contribution to Conceited Crusade. The prompt this week is “raw” and I didn’t even have to create fiction. Just copy and paste my life. Lolwnoalcam (Laughing out loud with no one around like a crazy man)
This is why we can’t have nice things. I feel like I am a refugee in my own home. I forget which rooms have carpet sometimes. This is the real. This is raw.
To any outsider looking in, there seem to be only a few basic needs. Parents should have to worry about food, shelter, and no running with scissors right?
What could possibly be the source of stress that makes so many sane adults lose their fucking minds?
What is so different?
I slept very little in college.
I drank way more beer.
I had a lifestyle that would kill me inside of a week these days but somehow it wasn’t quite this bad. I need a therapy flow chart or something. Like most problems, writing helps ferret out the true story. The raw emotion.
Let’s recount some highlights shall we?
A Facebook post on Sunday sets the tone: “I…
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