Having never read Hunter Thompson's book (by the way, that's going on my list) I don't really know what he intended by the title, but I find that I am identifying with it. Lately, I am terrified. And I hate myself for it, and I hate being so alone in having to deal with it. I am sure there are some people I could call if I really really wanted to, but I won't because I can't.
If the previous paragraph seems to be vague and rambling, you will have to excuse me, and chalk it up to the aforementioned fear and loathing. I am seriously back in a certain place where I never thought I would be again, and it's not a good place to be. All of a sudden I am sixteen again. So here's the thing, I hated being sixteen the first time around.
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