Sunday Evening
Thoughts come to me and I see them coming. I live a day and another day and I realize four years have passed since my wife died. I cut connections to people one by one. Now I have only one person that I meet regularly. A divorced friend.
I live a life of quiet despair. I behave like a normal person at work. I am not normal, however, in my heart. I keep this hatred about my life, my existence itself all the time. I just have nobody to show that hatred because it would reveal my problem of not being a good fit for a normal society. I just play along with the world to make a living but inside I am just like a wolf in the wild just like the hero of the novel by Herman Hesse.
I live a life of quiet despair. I behave like a normal person at work. I am not normal, however, in my heart. I keep this hatred about my life, my existence itself all the time. I just have nobody to show that hatred because it would reveal my problem of not being a good fit for a normal society. I just play along with the world to make a living but inside I am just like a wolf in the wild just like the hero of the novel by Herman Hesse.
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