To be honest, truth be told, I’m not in my natural habitat. This disease is very testing, and it’s horrifying, and it’s blah blah blah.

I like some things but not others. I am getting back into regular life. I have a paycheck. I guess talking about it can be done.

Well. Some people think it is common sense not to show up in their like space because they will punch you, like a gang violence person, except on the internet, with their psychic, and break many laws, and get in a lot of trouble. I’m glad they get in trouble. I wish they weren’t like that but some people are like that. Nothing but problems. It’s hard to imagine any sort of balance coming out of some forms of violence. I’m glad some are addicted to it. And then parents and folks like to prove a point with me.

I’m not in my natural habitat. I live with my parents in their house. I am obviously not here. In the sense of the word that occupying a place involves like, decorating it, and being in it, and enjoying being in it. Father is here. But only father.

He will die.

Maybe. I’m not so sure.

Eh well.

I’m getting impatient. The doctors don’t care. They’re more impatient than me. How that works?

I see such evil in systematized aid. I don’t understand it.

Shock therapy or whatever.


Mom. Alertness.

I guess she has hypertension.

The gossip channel.

Not sure who knows me. No one talks about me though so that’s good. That’s what I’m going for so mission accomplished! =D

There’s no “more” anonymous than “just” anonymous. I don’t know what I was implying. Do I apologize to a ghost, now and then?

Ever again?

Some people are just stupid, shit shit shit, die.

That’s great.

I won’t be a celebrated artist in history, but I left my mark, and I know it. I don’t know if that’s important.

My book is out. Do you care?

I need to regain control of the violence pain center of my brain. I don’t know how that works. It’s odd.

Stories to tell. Stories not to tell. Need to get used to what people don’t know about me. As that is the case, I may traverse freely through spaces on the Earth provided I follow certain… rules.

No really this planet is a sackashit.

So are you!@


Where do I go after this…

There’s always somewhere to go. Though. Isn’t there.

I don’t know.

I’m trapped.

There’s nowhere to go.

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