sometimes i re-read the things i write, and it makes me sick.

too much sugar can give you a stomach ache.
you can take that to the BANK.
and sometimes your reasoning sounds like a bush, and everyone is just beating the fuck around it.
how many games can we, and everyone else, play until we all look like nothing but a stack of jokers.
cause there are no aces.

there is no sensation. i can't say it's doubt, because that's taboo. but i cannot say it is not doubt, because then i could be lying. solutions? maybe. medication? maybe. FOREVER? no. i wish internet was never invented. there's too much pollution, too much lying, too much of everything.

i don't what i'm thinking. i'm just angry. there is an abominable place in my mind. like a melting snowman. sometimes things in life are just like coraline's other family. they only want your eyes and never your ears or fingers.

how long?

the end.