sacrifice

It seems in order to be able to love yourself; one sometimes must give up the possibility of being loved by another. That is the sacrifice. Is loving yourself enough to sustain? I think not. What I have done to enable me to love myself has alienated me from the human race. I am an exception, and no one likes exceptions. Am I too tall? Not convincing enough? A novelty? Is my transsexuality enough to render me utterly unattractive?

I’ve been thinking about looking for a high risk job. One that pays a lot of money with a high risk of being killed on the job. I find it more and more difficult to name something worth living for. The depth of loneliness that I feel reminds me of how I felt in my teen years. I had suicidal thoughts back then too. I had breakdowns every so often. I hid them well. The lingering ache of despair is still with me. The only thing I have ever been good at is my work, and even that has turned to shit.

I’m not sure if I am going to continue writing. What’s the point? There is none, and apparently there never was.