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I do love to be disturbed out of a rut, to be artistically shocked, to see or hear something exquisitely dark and strange. The problem is, I haven't been in a rut since high school. I walk a thin and unstable line, and the tiniest shocks can send me reeling off of the side. It's like being diabetic, and craving sugar, only the sugar has been spun into a entangling net of anxiousness and fear, with no charm left, because up close, most gold is cheap glitter paint, and sparkling gems turn into watery paste jewels... When things were relatively normal, I pined for a tragic tenebrous existence, because I saw glamour in such a life. I'm torn between a wordy statement about how stupid this was, or just putting "Duhr."