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If life isn’t in love with me then I won’t be in love with life. And if it decides to leave me so be it. Sometimes I think I keep on living out of mere stubbornness. 
No, I'm not suicidal. Not yet that is. I'm just not thrilled about life...yet again. I have the right to express discontent don't I? 'cause it fucking sickens me right now. And yesterday. And the day before yesterday. And the week before this week. And... oh, OK, whatever.