random act of exactly that

we are the victims. This is a species that loves to play itself as the hurt, the damaged, the destroyed. we are the people to be remembered for displaying and magnifying our wounds for the whole world to see. the drug addicts, the mentally ill, the abused. we are proud of our pain. Pay attention world, look how much i hurt. look how much stronger I am because I am still alive. Love me and love my pain.
Fuck you.
like attracts like. bringing attention to a bad thing will only bring about more bad things. Whether it's cancer or crack, talking obsessively over your wounds in whatever form or fashion will only hurt you in the long run. focus on the solution, not the problem.
To be honest, I have no idea to whom I am referring with this passage. Perhaps the memories are from a circle of friends that I'm no longer part of. Maybe it's me I'm remembering. I used to be pretty fucking negative, as I recall.
One more in a series of introspective jaunts designed solely to enrich and improve my life, a long chain of ridiculous incoherence made longer by my interference.