I'm not doing very well. But I'm pretty much never doing well.
One person I love was released from a psych ward today while another person I love informed me that she didn't love me anymore.
My dog has explosive diarrhea and the apartment smells.
I'm an obligation to everyone I know.
The way a honey bee feels when it's trapped by a child in a small juice jug is how I always feel.
The farthest place I can travel is a destination I walk to.
Have a strong feeling to eat as many heavy opiates as possible then go on a long journey down a side street.
But I can't because I have to keep existing or the person I love who just left the psych ward will lose their mind.
Ultimately my sadness and pain doesn't matter.
Keep thinking "love is bullshit" which may seem frivolous but my entire philosophy is based on the tenant of true love.
Struggling to not lose my mind.
Struggling.
Struggling.
Fucking struggling.
I don't know if or when I'll feel like talking again. And, honestly, i dont know if i believe in talking to anyone anymore.
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