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.

So cool.

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