Day Thirteen

So here I am with pockets full of good intentions
But none of them will comfort me tonight
I’m wide awake at four a.m
Without a friend in sight
Hanging on a hope but I’m alright…

We spend so much time presenting a brave face. Smile and say, “It’s OK.” It’s a much bigger lie than, “The devil doesn’t exist,” or “I read the terms and conditions,” or “I won’t cum in your mouth.” It’s way more insidious or dangerous and leaves a far worse taste in your mouth.

Do we do it to save others the discomfort that even people who seem to have it all together are broken and staggering towards whatever horrors the day… or the night contains. What is it about the illusion of wellness that makes us do it. Maybe there is some kind of misguided altruism in us that wants others to have a safe harbor because we don’t want to see them hurting. Maybe there’s some kind of misguided pride that tells us that we are better people if we tough our way through whatever horrors the day… or the night contains.

Maybe we’re just trying to fool ourselves. If we just keep saying we’re OK, that somehow, magically, we’ll actually BE OK.

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