this sort of malaise feeling of modernity. i feel werid and out of place. like i want to cry but the tears wont  form because i dont feel like they are warrented. i dont desrve to cry, nothing has happened. maybe i  just feel isolated, socailly. ha ha social  distancing. ive been doing this for so much longer than you  fools.

i feel abstracted. like the pieces wont come together.  my stomach hurts and that is the  only way i can actually come  to terms  with the fact that i dont feel so good. everyone says  my writting is  overdramatic and they are right  but nothing else feels genuine/sincere. i wonder if there is a difference between  those two words.

"always genuine, never sincere"

maybe that is the aesthetic of  modernity

i write as if i know anything,  foolish of me

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