The Christians lose.
Sorry if I’m not talking to you. Psychological abuse is pretty much the norm on the internet.
The bottle of gin I ordered months ago
In the mail
It was hidden from me
But I turned into a real person
And I found the gin
Now it is by my desk
It is on my desk
I have a bottle of gin on my desk
I feel like I’m in college again
I can drink as much as I want
So anyway I should get my liver vitals checkec out at some point
But beside that
I am now happy
I am not happy
I hate everyone I know
So I guess I should move
But I have gin
So that should make me happy
People ought not be in my mind
Very bad people
All the Americans really want to say is, “High, I’m superficial!”
Well, onto the 2nd bottle.
One thing that’s sad is that my family really doesn’t help. Brother keeps to himself, mother talks about thinks she knows a thing or two about like neuropharmacology but really she doesn’t have a clue, and what is my psychiatrist for anyway. So like, basically I have no one to assist me on this gentle rollercoaster.
Took a nap. I can’t believe it’s still today. The days are getting harder and harder. I really don’t know what to do. Lashing out at everyone.
There’s a lot of delicious food in the house but also a lot of garbage humans who claim for some reason to be related to me ruining the mood, and without mood, food is garbage. So like basically they’re starving me to death. Which is illegal and I contact the FBI and I think they should be sent to Guantanamo.
Are we here again? Are we at “writing is useless”? Yet?
I don’t regret much. Mostly I am scared of retribution. People make me scared because they are violent.
As a side note, fuck you, Alex, you sack of shit, for inhibiting my writing. You’re the lowest piece of garbage and I don’t really wish anyth–okay nevermind you did it again so just fuck you I guess.