The state is attacking me again.

Fuck you, bitch. Go blow up a bomb while hugging it.

The neighbors are terrorists.

No bad drugs–just bad ppl.

Fuck oyu shit fuck shit fuck shit die bitc h rteard ass nigger retards fuck you go commit suicide and leave me alone.

Fuckers.

Whore ass fuckers twisting my words.

They’re conservative.

Fuckers whore ass fuckers. Go die.

Nosy shits.

(C) DrrMrrCan’t (intentional omission of period)

Which ones?

Nothing. Because he would only interrupt.

OK so he would interrupt.

Both of my two “liberal” lawyers in califuckyou were incredibly corrupt.

This is the state of things.

Maybe my dad wants to sue me.

Fuck shit ass nigger thizz bitch.

In Europe, I am conservative.

My parents are conservative in the U.S.

I hope my drug supplier && my psychiatrist get alone.

My therapist is just friendly, and really stupid.

Therapy is first on the future docket, then dentist, then psychiatry.

Physical in 4 months.

Give this fat fucking lazy-ass drrmrrcan’t healthcare system something to live about.

I’d really like to keep things safe, and have the same, predictable, reliable dosage every day.

Yesterday was like how much? 6 g?

Today was about 6ish or 7ish, too.

I don’t want to escalate every day.

I didn’t get enough exercise today.

I don’t know what to say.

Also my mother doesn’t know about any of this.

So I really, really don’t know what to say.

But I think it’s under control.

OK, so we have to recalculate.

I am getting traces of mild euphoria, but also “people talking” (most doctors tell me this is a hallucination).

I just have schizoaffective disorder though, even before kratom I had.

So.

Let’s count how much we had today.

Morning: 1 pill green maeng da + 2 pills red borneo (easy && effective)

Evening: 1 pill green maeng da + 3 pills red borneo (didn’t feel like enough)

Nighttime (ongoing): 6 or 8 pills red borneo, + 1 pill green maeng da (willing to stop here, but still trying to “figure out” the evenings).

Each day DOES seem to reset.

I’ll have my labs done soon (no drug test hopefully–just like health metrics based bloodwork), so we’ll see how my liver’s doing.

I think… I don’t know.

If I survived all the stuff from before.

But who’s to say I survived.

Maybe I died on the inside a long time ago.

Well, fwiw. Who knows.

Would you like to play kick-a-baby?

I’m starting to take this whole thing more seriously.

Maybe I AM allowed to have things that make me feel better. Whether they’re things or actions.