No one likes me, except maybe my life partner? Is he setting me up? Did the FBI do this for twelve+ years? I don't know. I'm alone in this archipelago of a world. You post for a friend in a friend place, you get a friend, eventually. I don't anymore. I used to be good enough for frens. Not anymore. I get liars. But I love my life partner. I think he loves me, too. That's where he's CIA and cute!
But this "bizarreness" of my art is what makes me "subhuman," I feel in response, to my father. I'm not good enough. I'm not good enough. I'm not good enough.
There's no sad community. I gotta cone here for my life-long, debilitating, soul-crushing anathema.