“It’s a world where you don’t own your own body,
a world where you are taught to let pain turn you on, where you don’t get what you want because you can’t prove how much you want it,
and how much is it worth?
and is that more than you can make?
I can’t draw a pretty picture, I just want to draw everything that’s happened, until the whole page is black.
The worst part is knowing I’m not alone. The worst part is knowing that I don’t really know what the worst part is yet, because this just keeps getting worse.

I don’t know if I came up with that, I haven’t really come up with anything that hasn’t been said yet, felt yet, drawn yet, done yet.
And yet I can’t help but feel all the fuck alone.
And hate that people can relate, when I don’t want anyone too.
‘I don’t like me, too” says a crowded room.
~
It’s a world made of sand, waves that crash to change the shape.

That seems the only constant in my life, the waves that keep inevitably coming back.
A break at low tide and let’s see what this little boy in a sandbox can create.
~
I never seem to forget the mistakes I always keep making. I forget I know better and habits come out again.
I can slap my own wrist!
But I’m sorta used to pain.
I could cut off my fist-
but it really wasn’t mine in the first place.
I could yell and scream at myself to get up
but exhaust myself in the process.
I cant seem to learn what to care about first.

/funny how skipping years ahead has held me back/

I may as well be with alice in wonderland,
born too big and grown up too small
all up is down and down is ace of spades
mushrooms talk, and people are just things.
I’m just a little puppet, rebelling against it’s strings.
No one at the handle, and no one to see the stage,
just fumbling, frantic in the dark with the shadow monsters calling me(my) names.

I can draw a pretty picture, it’s not my fault if you scream.
Poking at people with hypodermic digits,
an automaton in it’s own making- using words it barely knows in search of someone who can explain them. Printing out pages of recycled paper, garbled text of info received prior.

We all learn from trial and error.
Error, error, error
ERROR 404
page not found.

That’s what my world is. Everything I know is outdated, license expired, pages unmaintained, forgotten, or erased. A lot of missing pages.
~
I never mean what I say I never say what I mean, and all these things aren’t people and people are still things.
Life is sad, so are you, I send my regards with a loving ‘Fuck you~ <3”