On being a bad person…

About once a year or so, around the turning of the seasons from winter to spring, I have an existential crisis. What is it about this year that makes me hate myself and question everything? I don’t know for sure, in a macro sense. Maybe I’m just a bad person.

What does that mean though, to be a bad person?and if, indeed, I am one, then how to proceed?

Surely there’s some protocol. Do I just have to keep going to work and reading and seeing my friends and taking photographs and petting my cat knowing that I’m deceiving all of them all the while? Or do you suppose they know? I’m not sure. I think I need a minute…

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