I guess my blog is private. Those psychic swirls no one can see but me, that are invisible even to me, that I see just their patterns, their whitespace, not even, their nonexistence, how to explain, what about them. I go so much to describe I forget. That is how it is. I donotwishtoquoteVonnegut.

Never the right decision.

Go away, Nish.

Some people show up, they really throw me off. Nish was a “friend” in high school, really, I had stockholm syndrom for him. He was narcissistic and abused me but I was underneath him so that was just the relationship. This went down no one did anything about it. I guess no one knew.

So it just goes to show you. It can happen right under your nose. In the middle of the campus.

In any case.

I forgot what I was going to say.

Now I’m just ambling.

I’m losing my marbles again. I came here clear-minded, good start to the post, and now I’m insane. Because insane sells. It’s shit. It doesn’t sell. Insane doesn’t sell. Maybe it did at one point. It never did. What. I don’t know any famous people. Made you angry! Ha! Ha! =D

Well. I don’t know.

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