So my aunt came over this morning and told us that there are police on every fucking corner. I don’t want to leave the house today. I don’t know why or what the fuck they’re doing but I don’t like this I’m going to freak the fuck out.
So I’m doing a history project on obesity. And one of my PowerPoint slides is about how obesity gives you emotional trauma because you get discriminated against and bullied because of being so overweight. and like, for the picture i posted one of James Franco from Pineapple Express eating a burger and crying. This was supposed to be a group project but I chose to do it alone. I’m gonna be standing up there for 10 minutes laughing at my own joke I already know.
I crave writing
But I hate my words.
You see, whenever i spill things out,
all the bad gets released.
I can’t write about meadows and warm tea.
They don’t come out as easily
as crying and tiredness do.
Whenever I’m outside at night
I look up at the stars and smile
and I forget about my troubles
Because the galaxies make me feel so small
the constellations are comfort
the pain is receding,
but i must still be patient.
maybe one day
I can write about flowers and smiles
just not tonight
because the stars are not visible, dear.
I’m sitting here in the dark quiet
Pretending to sleep.
I pretend to eat, I say don’t you worry.
I can handle myself
Well truth is, baby, I’m not lying
I have control of the situation
Just not in a good way
But don’t you worry my love
I will survive
and you can keep me
almost a g of coke in my system
niggas be trippen
but i aint feelin nothin
hahahahaha im a rapper now guys
that didnt even rhyme but it did to me for like a second
ok these fucking nosebleeds have to stop
I decided on how I’m gonna die.
Heroin. Lots and lots of heroin. So if all else fails and my life turns into a miserable dark whole of blackness with no light anywhere (which I doubt it will), that’s what I’ll be doing.
Just so you know ok
So let me go
Because the truth is…