one hand on this wiley comet

My mother, for whom I have whored myself to Macys, distanced myself from any friend, and endured immense depression, just told me I had just decided to be unhappy. This woman has one amazing talent; nothing is ever her fault. Though she has forced me to live with her to ease her aching heart, then decided to leave for extended periods of time, she has no part in my displeasure. Every morning I decide to wake up and know no one, have nothing, and feel no reward for any actions. I only hope that one day I can achieve such superhuman powers of innocence and wisdom.