There are worse things you stupid bitch!
There are worse things than the image of the only man you loved fucking your friend and sucking her tits.
There are worse things than crying yourself to sleep every night, and wishing, hoping praying for something to happen; some message, some letter, some random act of kindness to prove to you that you are in fact worthy, that your sad pathetic life and your pathetic dreams are not meaningless, that despite the abusive men, the disconnected family, the indifferent friends, there is still a reason to wake up every morning.
There are worse things you shallow, self-centred loser; there are children dying, there are wars, there are terminally ill people in dirty cold wards.
You hold on to old rusty keys that fit nowhere, you knock on doors that won’t open. Inside you there’s a cave, within another cave, within a well, within an endless black hole, a darkness fathomless and infinite.
You died a million times, it’s hard to look in the mirror, it’s hard to remember! “If only I was someone else, somewhere else” you’ve been murmuring for the past 25 years.