admitting cynically all the time i'm wasting, but i know honestly that i can succeed- at the art of losing. i could achieve the worthy feat of effecting absolutely nothing. i'll consolidate the strength to be a nobody. mediocrity seems alright to me. at heart i'm a loner. in my head i am a downer. i don't think i'll ever find myself at ease. and i've got this gut feeling that misapprehending it all is a good way to be, at least a temporary strategy. i'm not gifted. my only talent is feigning interest. i'd rather fester. i'd rather bleed. give up the search for the cure, learn to love the disease. a small price to pay for anonymity. any positive trait i will lay straight to waste and let it languish in solitude and interrupted sleep. "come on now, don't sit so scrunched up. you've gotta get rid of those dreary eyes. to shy away is to give in to those who want to control you and scrape out your insides. i know that there's gotta be something out there for you to do. you will work it all out. i trust you." everybody's always convincing me to do something valued for a chance. i would rather have no bearing on anything.