Something eerily poetic about the topic of my 500th post. The melancholy and isolation that inspired BHE six years ago is still with me today. I feel like I haven't really changed that much, but in that six years I managed to get a job, briefly dabble in a relationship, start grad school, as well as hone my photography and prose.
Of course in the same span, I've managed to kill said relationship a dozen times, forgo my zeal for a healthier lifestyle, and grow frighteningly more comfortable in my solitude and despair.
I feel like I'm no further along in my frustrating journey towards self-acceptance and my most recent swan dive into depression as a result of a completely predictable set of circumstances is a testament to that very fact.
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