fuck this shit. i’m not down for another few years of bull. but i also know me and i know i won’t last. so i am down with it and am not down with it too. i don’t want to get lost in it again. make it into more than it is. i need to dissect my heart from it. but then, it is too random to last. too detached. but it already is. as much as i enjoy it. it’s so not worth the hang (self) over. soul rape. drown. i’ll start using note pads. write that shit. heal that oozing wound. fuck it some more. him some more. then be done.