i want to take my brain apart piece by piece to reprogram the little monster that controls me.
i’m alone now. it’s colder than usual. the walls are closing in on me and i can’t look at myself. i grab everything within reach that will help. the tabs of acid in my pocket. the cigarettes in my desk drawer. no mind is paid to the empty canvas lying on the floor.
i can’t keep doing this.
i know.
i wrote the last stanza hours ago and i’ve been chain smoking ever since.
i’m hoping that somehow
when there’s enough ink in my lungs
a dam will break
and it will run out of my mouth, down to my fingertips, and onto these pages.
my night is already wasted and i’m exhausted. hopefully tomorrow will treat me better than you did.
what is it about the secret history that makes you unable to do or consume or think about anything that’s not the secret history. you would think it would wear off after reading it four times but it doesn’t. I need to eat it or something. they put drugs in that book I think
I did a drug and alcohol eval for my probation and my probation officer just told me they reccomendEd IOP even though I already did it last year, and he said since it wasn’t during probation I might have to do it again 🥲
the way we don’t get a buff abby because they choose someone who’s barley 5 feet and 90 pounds to be not only child ellie but also grown ellie.. season two is gonna be terrible and i won’t be watching 😭
Ok but Phil’s joke actually made me laugh so hard I had to pause the video. Why are there no painkillers in the jungle? Because the parrots-eat-em-all!