I’d love to have a dog but I can’t even care for myself some days. How could I care for a dog? Poor me.
I try and tell myself my life could be so much worse. I could be living inside an ugly blue burqa, trying to see life through a piece of mesh. It’s true, but it’s not true to me. My life, right now, is the worst thing on the planet. At least [tag]Muslim women[/tag] in burqas really have no clue there’s a better world out there. They’re like zoo animals, born into captivity, never knowing there’s an African plain with their name on it where they could run free (and be shot by poachers for their fur).
I’ve turned into a cynic. Will [tag]electroconvulsive therapy[/tag] cure my cynicism?