have friends become an accessory?


I can count on one hand how many of them I have had a deep and meaningful with.
I can count even less I have done so face to face.
Where the fuck did I get seventy friends from?
This utterly dropped me today. I don’t know why I feel so dismal about it, so severed and removed from myself about it, but I do.

Not that I have this aching desire to have seventy friends, rather I was upset because I have become part of the system I so detested for so long.
I’m a loner by nature so it bothers me not one iota.
But I am scolding myself, thinking, am I a fake? A fraud? pretending to be your friend and haven’t done anything for you?
Forgive me if I begin removing myself, the guilt is more depressing than anything.

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