1-8-19 7:38PM -
the idea of being mysterious has always appealed to me, being hdden away and safe from prying eyes that will always watch and wait for the next fuck up. i bottle up everything inside letting it build and build and build, as they say shit always happens in threes. the tarot cards say im a leader, the king of wands, but the tar in my brain prevents anything at all. remaining despondent unless directed, which makes sense. any kindness is wasted on me. its all just lies and niceities if anything. pretending like ym high vocabulary or "above average" intelligence will have any affect on the dead that walk still. their bones fused to the nderside of my flesh puppeteering me around like some tv show host. at least they get air time
1-8-19 7:06PM -
I'm so exhausted, of every pause and fading emotion I feel.
If I'm not attached at the hip to someone who can manage my sporadic moods, I slip.
I hate everytime I say I or ME because I'm so damn focused on every little thought spilling on the floor of my own head
just like the paint on the floor on stage or like the shame on my skin it piles up up up
i know that its going ot build up and shatter, i'm just waiting on when the clock will hit zero and ill reset like always and then ill continue under a perfect guise of normalcy--80