(no subject)
My brain feels like a rubberband taken out of a freezer and strecthed to breaking. I'm tired of bitching all the time. I'm just tired.
My mother thinks I'm going manic again.
I think she's paranoid.
I half-wish I were manic.
Maybe I'd write some poetry.
Maybe I'd have some energy.
Maybe things wouldn't look so grey.
Where ever I go, there I am.
My mother thinks I'm going manic again.
I think she's paranoid.
I half-wish I were manic.
Maybe I'd write some poetry.
Maybe I'd have some energy.
Maybe things wouldn't look so grey.
Where ever I go, there I am.