Beautiful only after death

My earliest memory is of me writhing in Archaeozoic plains

failure to thrive

call in sick and drive over the edge

flat needs painting, carpeting, furnishing... i've been very tense

in my new flat

potentially moving out of the hostel into my new flat today. even if not, it'll happen soon. nervous for the future, maybe a little proud

the deep sadness of being abnormal is catching up to me

i'm really starting to question my faith

walked and walked and walked and walked and cried and walked and now i feel like i just crawled out of a totalled car

my body is ruined

everyone is, in their own subtle ways, cruel, even when they don't intend it, everyone can see me and i see them too, i'm cruel too

grow tired of everything

clarity is always within reach

the threat is not unsurmountable but only slightly bigger than you

august has cemented itself as the unrelenting kidney stone of the 12 months

this summer was horrific

i respect if you have a “style” or “niche” but keep in mind that that just makes it easier for me to kill you had the opportunity arose

i'm less equipped than i was a year ago, i need rest but no one will grant it to me

i'm not sure what i'm going for anymore but i'm not really complaining