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I have done some terrible things. When I was about 14, living in a third world communist country, I was "recruited" by the police in the city I lived in to be a "collector" for them. It was supposed to be a joke, but even as skinny as I was, I actually had a talent for it. My nickname was "Palito", which means "small stick". I carried a broomstick. I inflicted pain. If I did not succeed, which was what was expected, my "partner", Raul, would finish the job. I feel...I don't know what. I was good at hurting people and rationalized that it was because at least I kept them alive.
I have a ridiculous IQ. I have accomplished nothing with it. If I could go back to my 11 year old self and murder him, I would. He has no idea how miserable mere existence really is. My failures as a person, a father, in business could have been avoided.
Every night for the last (at least) 20 years, I have prayed to not wake up in the morning. Every morning I am here, and therefore disappointed. I have taken the drugs. I have done the behavioral thing. One thing I have learned is that there are no new beginnings, because wherever you go, there you are.
I don't know why I'm posting. I am really not looking for help, because there isn't any. There is just this miasma that I plod through every day hoping that today will be the day. The crowning achievement? Not only am I still here, but I'm old on top of it. I gave up on fun a long time ago. Now I am not even finding pleasure. Just plodding.
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