we're only a quarter of the way through depressive season and i am already feeling *so* misanthropic.
fed up with the world.
fed up with people.
every minor annoyance slowly building atop of the last such that any solitudinarian narrative, however toxic to the soul, becomes increasingly alluring.
fed up with the world.
fed up with people.
every minor annoyance slowly building atop of the last such that any solitudinarian narrative, however toxic to the soul, becomes increasingly alluring.
Comments
not for their sakes, but so that my own contentment and belonging feels less like a distant dream.