Who needs suicide when the pain can rot away your insides for you?
He he, I’m going to die sooner or later. We all do! Whether it be 80 years from now, or the next time I take the plunge over the quarry’s edge. It’s all fluff.
I rolled up the night on a spool of black silk and never will I return again. He he, J has a carrot in her mouth. My dad’s carrot. My dad’s truck is in her driveway. My mother’s institutionalized.
No more refills without a doctor’s appointment. Ha. But there’s no one to tell that to. Going to be interesting in the days ahead.
Who’s playing the harp? Someone’s playing the fucking harp. Shut the fuck up. It isn’t funny
I have a headache and I won’t sleep tonight. That’s a problem. That’s a fucking problem. Maybe I’ll try lucid dreaming. Yes, I’m going to lucid dream about a million-year long nap! I’ll meet some of you there.
If you’re still reading, and I know you aren’t, well, I’m sorry. You are a lovely person and I wish I knew you, somehow. I don’t, and I probably never will. That’s all right. Have a wonderful day, eat some carrots, shed some tears.
My pen sheds black tears for all you people
Bye
2 comments
You’re a beautiful writer.
This is a beautiful piece of writing. Write again for me sometime.