this time please someone come and rescue me

i would like to sleep for 21 hours

who what where when why?

i really like this drug

i've found a new passtime. poppin' poppies. methodic. hidden meanings, can you see??

im so sick of sitting around doing nothing with anything. i wish i could be happy and in love and have sex and money and friends and not feel like shutting everyone out indefinately. seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me? what makes it so hard for me to get a job/boyfriend/every fucking thing ive wanted but can never fucking get. die die die.

just when my emotional problems were surmounting a very very real problem emerges. this might be it yall

i liked it better when my entries went over peoples heads

i used to be able to write. to blend colors with assonance and contruct trees with alliteration. now i can only spit.

i tell everyone its ok and that its past and shit heals with time but it always comes back