ive always since i was little just seemed so out of touch with reality. its like i see things that people dont. like my eyes are really fucked up, it seems like everything is a matteress. my head always feels like its going to drop off. i feel like im in a lava lamp. its kinda fun on some days, like if im listening to the beatles or pink floyd and i feel sort of high, but it makes the low days even lower. the low days are hell. ive had my eyes checked a million and one times. i have to see a strange women who always writes on her notebook whenever i open my mouth. heaps of people i thought were my friends say to me “i give up on you” i am really just to different, to weird, to fucked up. i tried to kill myself once, it was beautiful the way the blood swirled and splatterd around the bath, it was like i was in a piece of art.
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however, when you write, you have a clear vision of everything, you are as fine as fresh salad on a sunny day. What dont you challenge the psychologist and ask ker, “what are you writing about me”? challenge her, and if you dont like her, fire her.
what about your life? age, study, work?