The Shooter is Me

Life is punitive and cruel.

Life is also grandiose and beautiful.

I can’t help but be enraged with how my mind is strained and pulled at from both sides, by optimism and pessimism.

Do I love life or do I hate it?

Do I want to live or do I want to die?

I cannot decide.

Fear of making the wrong decision has me held at gun point – only the shooter is myself.

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