That there, that’s not me. I’m not here, this isn’t happening.
I am tired all the time. Professionals study me. Professionals have no idea what’s wrong. I have a feeling they’re missing something big and obvious. I have a feeling it’s going to be easy to solve. I have a feeling it’s too easy to slip through the cracks. When they find out what’s wrong and fix me I plan to use my new superpowers to destroy them. Well, I might just sell whatever they plan to use to fix me and I could be the same person only with more money. That’d make me feel better. Either way. They totally owe me.
School sucks. It’s easy. And boring. And most people don’t care about it. Including teachers. Newburyport would be a shitty place to get stuck.
I’m going to fly a fucking helicopter to work. I should say someone’s going to fly my fucking helicopter to work for me. And that servant under me will probably make more money than you. So keep in touch. Life will continue getting better exponentially. Then stop abruptly but only when I’m so euphoric that I forget who I am.
School sucks. It’s easy. And boring. And most people don’t care about it. Including teachers. Newburyport would be a shitty place to get stuck.
I’m going to fly a fucking helicopter to work. I should say someone’s going to fly my fucking helicopter to work for me. And that servant under me will probably make more money than you. So keep in touch. Life will continue getting better exponentially. Then stop abruptly but only when I’m so euphoric that I forget who I am.