(no subject)
Sitting here and thinking of all the fucked up, mind wrenching bullshit that is called my life and I want to scream.
Not in pain. Not in god damn anger. Not in the frustration that I feel but for fucking relief. You got it.
Relief in knowing that it will all be over soon.
No bitch. I am not thinking of suicide or the easy fucking way out. I fucking god damn well tried it once and know there is no such thing as an easy way out. 100 pills of gravel and a chaser of cheap ass fruit wine followed by a visit by police and an ambulance then being strapped down to a fucking bed with a tube stuck down my throat to put charcoal inside of me so I would actually throw the crap out of my system. Took three mother fuckers to hold me down.
Falling asleep with my eyes open. Hallucinations and seeing the Siamese/Persian mix cat that I had (which was born right under my bed so I had him since day one of him being born) dangling wet and bloody from the fake foam cover ceiling. Strapped down with my pants lowered down between my legs so that the orderly can come over and take my dick out when I need to take a fucking piss (you wouldn't believe it...take an overdose and one of the side effects is the feeling of needing to go pea almost constantly. The old man that you were talking to that sounded like he was just visiting someone and making small talk with you....yeah small talk to a man who's arms and legs are tied to the bed.
So no. No you don't have to worry about me.
I'm over 40 years old. Smoke. Don't exercise really. Drink. So na you dont have to worry about me trying to off myself quickly. I'm just doing it slowly instead and no that doesn't mean I've given up on life mother fucker
It just means I'm enjoying life more now.
Not in pain. Not in god damn anger. Not in the frustration that I feel but for fucking relief. You got it.
Relief in knowing that it will all be over soon.
No bitch. I am not thinking of suicide or the easy fucking way out. I fucking god damn well tried it once and know there is no such thing as an easy way out. 100 pills of gravel and a chaser of cheap ass fruit wine followed by a visit by police and an ambulance then being strapped down to a fucking bed with a tube stuck down my throat to put charcoal inside of me so I would actually throw the crap out of my system. Took three mother fuckers to hold me down.
Falling asleep with my eyes open. Hallucinations and seeing the Siamese/Persian mix cat that I had (which was born right under my bed so I had him since day one of him being born) dangling wet and bloody from the fake foam cover ceiling. Strapped down with my pants lowered down between my legs so that the orderly can come over and take my dick out when I need to take a fucking piss (you wouldn't believe it...take an overdose and one of the side effects is the feeling of needing to go pea almost constantly. The old man that you were talking to that sounded like he was just visiting someone and making small talk with you....yeah small talk to a man who's arms and legs are tied to the bed.
So no. No you don't have to worry about me.
I'm over 40 years old. Smoke. Don't exercise really. Drink. So na you dont have to worry about me trying to off myself quickly. I'm just doing it slowly instead and no that doesn't mean I've given up on life mother fucker
It just means I'm enjoying life more now.