Deep six your dejected emotional translation of what you think is your self-imposed reality reaped from others misplaced scowls. Scowls that hang on irritation derived from physical pain, and the daily emotional drain.
Pointless twisting of others physical paintings to fit what warped mind steeped in endless self-dejection wants to see. Not recognizing what can be, but instead cementing yourself into a mold shaped by others rejection.
Deriving strength only from external circumstances, the would be well of evolved self-help is dry as a bone. Externally submitted demons fly un-noticed, escaping minds eye flirting glance. Their sole purpose to drag with them emotional turmoil.
The external spotlight meant to examine the workings of others is not so far reaching. Serving only to highlight internal conflict and project it onto the perceived composure of others making for a confusing soup. Others are an emotional mess. I am others.
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