Fuck. What am I doing. Why can’t I study but that’s not important. I need to think about love, and focus on it. And life. And beauty. What is beautiful anymore. What is in my life that I am thankful for.
What are all these coerced words meaning.
What am I saying.
I wrote some really good poems last night.
I will publish more books fyi (i have one out already) so be sure to check it out on amazon. The Passage is Still, kindle and paperback.
It’s so. I don’t know. I want to start but there’s no continuation.
I don’t know what to do.
I’m available. Does no one find me attractive? Does no one like my personality? Does anyone know me? Does no one want to fuck me?
I want to fuck someone cool.