out of time, never in it to begin with
i want to talk to a bot about trauma. i dont even feel comfortable going to a human therapist anymore
trauma and drama are often pronounced too similarly
all my life has been go big or go home. i've just been home is all
people shitting in a porcelain bowl while laughing at a piece of glass with fancy rocks in it
my online friends and real life friends never met. so whose to say that any of them are real and not just a figment of my imagination
how is it that my friend's coworkers are anti-vax when they're working in a covid lab
why are people taking up duties that should help others when their interests do not align with it
as the summer goes by, the rotting foundation of this exemplary definition of this country's housing crisis reminds me how close i am to homelessness.
sometimes i wish i could erase myself from this openly hostile place, but then someone else had took the chance before i could. look at me being resentful at a person who took the chance who must've had the proverbial self-confessional of passing through, or away for others. . this no way for someone to live their life. and people will say to live for the ones that couldn't. and whose to say that they want others to live for them? how is that any different than ascribing ones death to themselves? of which i'm doing to see if i could've convinced otherwise or maybe i could've taken place. i hate that these two mindsets are at war depending which end end i'm on. but these answers are only regurgitated from others and they don't really make up for going conversations anyway
as much as i'm also a slave to the screen, i'm not sure if i'm under the same weighted ball n chain as the rest trying to calcify their pineal glands with weed and intaking static brain noise from the $100 a month entertainment propaganda machine. i don't even want to share the more tender moments of the outside with them if all i ever do with them is to preoccupy them from shooting the shit about life with me
i want to talk to a bot about trauma. i dont even feel comfortable going to a human therapist anymore
trauma and drama are often pronounced too similarly
all my life has been go big or go home. i've just been home is all
people shitting in a porcelain bowl while laughing at a piece of glass with fancy rocks in it
my online friends and real life friends never met. so whose to say that any of them are real and not just a figment of my imagination
how is it that my friend's coworkers are anti-vax when they're working in a covid lab
why are people taking up duties that should help others when their interests do not align with it
as the summer goes by, the rotting foundation of this exemplary definition of this country's housing crisis reminds me how close i am to homelessness.
sometimes i wish i could erase myself from this openly hostile place, but then someone else had took the chance before i could. look at me being resentful at a person who took the chance who must've had the proverbial self-confessional of passing through, or away for others. . this no way for someone to live their life. and people will say to live for the ones that couldn't. and whose to say that they want others to live for them? how is that any different than ascribing ones death to themselves? of which i'm doing to see if i could've convinced otherwise or maybe i could've taken place. i hate that these two mindsets are at war depending which end end i'm on. but these answers are only regurgitated from others and they don't really make up for going conversations anyway
as much as i'm also a slave to the screen, i'm not sure if i'm under the same weighted ball n chain as the rest trying to calcify their pineal glands with weed and intaking static brain noise from the $100 a month entertainment propaganda machine. i don't even want to share the more tender moments of the outside with them if all i ever do with them is to preoccupy them from shooting the shit about life with me