I’m a paradox. I want to be happy, but I think of things that make me sad. I’m lazy, yet I’m ambitious. I don’t like myself, but I also love who I am. I say I don’t care, but I really do. I crave attention, but reject it when it comes my way. I’m a conflicted contradiction. If I can’t figure myself out, there’s no way anyone else has.
“what if the aborted baby could have cured cancer???”
oh my god what if the last egg I bled onto a kotex product could have cured cancer??
oh my god how am I not birthing every possible egg I produce, lest one of those resulting babies be the person who cures cancer/AIDS/creates world peace????
what if that baby could have been a musical artist described by pitchfork as “liberace with a metalcore twist”????
how dare i not be pregnant/birthing all the time always?????