Today's dilemma is a peculiar one. I have always thought that my experiences made me unique. Yet as I look for solace in this big bad world, I figure out that I am not unique at all.
There is nothing new that I have gone through.
There is nothing new in my reactions to whatever has happened to me.
This is both a relief and a fact that pisses me off.
Not unique, but does that mean they are not yours?
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