I am no one significant. I am no one at all. 

I am just a young 21 year old woman who puts on a front to seem different. I am an assistant manager at a 1.5 million dollar store and manage people older than me. I am not in my age group or in a group older. There is no particular place for me.

My depression eats me alive. The whispers of suicide caress my ears while the razors that I’ve thrown out call to me. My skin itches. The need to destroy myself all but consumes me while I consume nothing. The irrational fear of eating plagues me, and I become friends with starvation. An unwelcome friendship. I am insane.

The friends I have are few. Even they do not always connect. How can they? I am not a good friend. 

All I want to do is write and make more. I want to find more of myself and walk away from the figures that haunt my mind. This is what I shall do. Eventually. With time.

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