At any other point in history I wouldve been dead for years
I can’t hardly breathe in daylight
Me I’ll overthink myself into 500 years of doubt and self murder
Existential dieting
Any fucker who says it’s artistic and temperament of artist can fuck right off Mentally illness sucks
Existential dieting
love songs are kind of abstracted to me because of how my life was is … SHRUGS
Greedy pig life
Far far away In non-artist land
ppl with fewer feelings and nothing In common get married all the time
I’m ravenously feasting on bread. It’s expensive and bloatingly decadent
I give too many fucks I’m a careless fuck giver A promiscuous worrier
Poking wounds with rusty spoons
all the beauty I’m not and the intimacy I’m not having It’s a full time job
I hate myself But all my demons are my own
Need my monk prison death sentence haircut back
i sleeps with the fridges
The horror of waking up as myself. Again
Any fucker who says it’s artistic and temperament of artist can fuck right off Mentally illness sucks
To be in love With candid kitchen you
To own desired objects
Garden of ugh
silently screaming and contorting myself into awful shapes
just want something to soften the edges of my distress