You don’t have to make your breathing stop to be actually dead. There’s this self-therapy to make you go bat-shit insane. You’ll laugh and cry until the two blur together like an ugly blur of paint colors and you won’t be able to paint a picture, no, but you’ll be able to rot in the trash. No one wants grey paint
Go to sleep and scare yourself. It works. Lucid dreaming. Frighten yourself to the point of numbness
Have you ever stared in the mirror for too long? That pale fleshy creature morphs into something twisted and grey and demonic, hollow, empty, dead!!! And yet alive…..
Last night I was chased by the lipsticked poodle who wanted my carrot sticks. That poodle insisted on happy things and happy people, and he skinned anyone who wasn’t happy with a potato peeler. That happy poodle preyed on the depressed poodles
It’s all gone now, I’m neither male nor female, happy nor sad, evil or good, I just exist. A typo on a paper already printed. Too bad, the printer’s out of ink, you can’t fix the typo!!!! I exist and there isn’t anything you can do about it.
No, I am one thing, a deranged clump of white cells