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You Are Cursed to Hear My Endless Barrages of Insecurities

The book was within arms reach, I grabbed it and fastened it on my lap. I picked up the pen that lay wasted on the corner of the desk and I started it again like every other day.

"Dear Diary" I wrote in blue pen,

stretching the words across the page.

I wrote if it was okay

to have self-doubt,

And it told me absolutely.

I told if it was normal to be worried about life,

It ruffled my hair and said yes.

I sought its opinion on whether I

was a burden to others,

It handed me a cup of tea

and reassured me that I wasn't.

I inquired if it was common to

find it difficult to connect with others,

It wrapped me in its arms and comforted me by saying

that it was fine.

I questioned if it thought

if I was ever good enough,

It lowered the thermostat and propped a blanket over me.

It didn't say a single word, because

I already knew the answer.

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