I feel like the line which divides what is real and what is not has been blurred considerably. Or perhaps it's just too much wine. The past few days have seen me lost in indulgence: shopping sprees, manicures, sushi and wine. Friday night was spent abusing someone else's pool in someone else's world, a strange escape from my own. Saturday night was spent alone in bed revisiting thoughts and feelings I have seemingly forgotten. What is real to me might not be real to anyone else sitting at the same table having pancakes at seven in the morning. So how is it that I see the realness in everyone else's but mine? Mine is filled with debauchery and scandal, one where family and loyalty come second only to one's self interest. One where mutual relationships are built on give or take, use or be used. One where companionship is never stable for fear of being fucked over. A world I have carved for myself. Brilliant.
And I think that it's time,
This battle must be won.
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