WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF


i'm not really sure how to say any of this. see, in my mind it all connects in a gigantic constellation that i can draw and manipulate and play with like a toy but i think that there's something in me that means i have to hurt in some way, self-inflicted way or otherwise… or be in some sort of turmoil anguish to create or to write anything if i'm not hurting i can’t pull threads until i am it's not something i'm proud of nor something i enjoy not something i want not so not sure if it's learned or innate not sure if anything's innate actually i've become and become unbecome and i am becoming and it gets rather difficult to keep a hold of each me that has once become

when will i drop myself?


IS THIS JUST ONE, LONG, MEANDERING SUICIDE NOTE?
GOD, YOU ARE PATHETIC.



anguish makes one hour 10; within my mouth you have enjailed my tongue.


THE DEVIL YOU KNOW
IS THE DEVIL YOU WANT


(i can't exist without a vice or pitfall of some kind.
i’ll cycle through so many achilles heels' that eventually i’ll just end up back where i began).

i think i've turned self self harm into self harm all my life at 11 i started cutting at 14 it was hard drugs and cigarettes 18 booze 19 starving myself benzos 21 adhd meds still starving myself vaping insomnia
and now at 22 i mean fuck it's all the same i say i'm sober but my blood is pure amphetamine


i have fed too long off my own fat; unless i can master the alchemical trick of turning this muck into gold i am lost
—nietzsche