my broken sister

how many times have i written about my broken sister? too many times?
no matter how many times i write about her, nothing helps. it’s not helping her,
at least. does it relieve me of the guilt i feel? like look at my pain, my suffering
as the sister of this fabulously broken woman.
fuck me.

another exploration of the futility of my naval gazing masturbatory behavior via blogging & art journal…. but i just keep swimming, because it is all i know…and because if i stop swimming, i sink.

navel gazing asshole

does anything i say really matter?
am i just a full of shit navel gazing asshole?
do i assault you with my narcissistic whining? to what end? am i helping…
or just masturbating in text form?

so many questions as i write & write & write and wonder what it is all for in the end. what do i accomplish? i do want to help…but maybe i’m just wanking off after all.

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