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En tekst om det å ikke passe inn.
I´m tired. Tired of being me. You have probably felt the same way quite a few times yourself. I guess you can´t really go through life without feeling that way at least once or twice. It´s in other words fairly normal, but it still sucks. I have been tired for some time now, a little over fourthy years to be exact. Now, that can´t be good, can it? I don´t know how many nights I have been awake, thinking about why. Why has this feeling of tiredness been so unbelievably strong all these years? I think I have come up with an answer to my question now, and it´s really quite simple. It´s because I don´t fit in. I´m not like one of those who say that just to have an exuse for their longing to die, I really mean it. You still don´t believe me? Well, listen to this; I´m fourthy years old and I´m still living with my “highly beloved” mother, the best job I have ever had was as a stamplicker, and I have never ever had any kind relationship with a man in my entire life (unless you count my male dog Gergor, but I guess you don´t). And on top of that I´m a woman. Now, how many times have you heard about a woman living at home with her mother at the age of fourthy? Let´s be honest, if you ever hear a sad story like this one, the narrator is usually a man. In other word, the man is the one who is living the tragic life. Well, not in this one. And that, to me, makes it fair to say that I really don´t fit in. Anywhere.
You may ask yourself, again and again while you´re reading this story, why on earth my life is the way it is. I can´t really help you with an answer. Some people are made targets of really early in life, and I was one of them. The other kids decided they didn´t like me, and I have been a lonely soul ever since then. But, that´s not the worst part. The worst part is disliking myself for who I am. The worst part is looking myself in the mirror and wishing to break it only to cut myself with the glass afterwards. It´s sad, I know, but my feelings are beyond my control.
I have never been happy, at least not fully. I was happy when I stole my dog from outside a nice house, and I was happy when I finaly was able to run out of my secondary school for the very last time. I remember crying like it was any other day of the year, but this time it was out of joy and not sadness. However, both those times I experienced a kind of fake happiness, the feeling was only temporary. It didn´t take long for the sadness to come and wash the happiness away.
You may wonder what kind of a person I am. What my personality is like, and how I look on the outside. I´m quite sure you believe me to be very ugly, both on the inside and outside. It´s normal to assume that I guess. I´m not going to bother telling you about my appearance, what´the point? Soon it will be on the bottom of the river, and I will probably look horrible then, with my eyes wide open and everyhing. When it comes to my personality, I´m a quiet woman, and I was a quiet child as well. I spend nearly all my time thinking, and that probably isn´t very good for me. My thoughts get mixed up, and I get confused. I have always looked at myself as a rather nice person, but only my mother has ever seen that side of me. Well, I guess my dog has also. I care about people, even when they don´t care about me. Some would call that very stupid, and I would have to agree.
I have never been loved, and I never will be. So, I´m saying goodbye now. I´m saying goodbye to the world I hate to hate. I´m shouting bye to the grey grass, and the even darker sky. I´m stepping on the ugly flowers on my way out of this place. Good bye to all of you, you will never have to look at me again. You don´t understand me, you think I´m a wuss. Well, you have probably never felt how it is to be unloved...
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