My bitch family fucks me. Strictly nonsexually, just in terms of reducing my QOL (quality of life).
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As the trash (human children) show up for their fat.
Do I have something to say?
Thank you very much.
Childhood fitness training
The thing w/exercise is that it is good.
&& I need to do like a lot. Every fucking day.
Then I feel good.
But if I don’t exercise, I feel bad.
Like irritable && like shit.
So I have to exercise.
But often, I don’t.
&& I don’t know what to do.
So I guess I have green tea && eat some onion.
Sorry for the violent/threatening writing. My mental illness acts up sometimes–
but I’m not dangerous, I swear.
Also, I take the weekends off from kratom.
Starting midnight tonight.
So this should be good, a sort of cleanse. Hopefully I don’t have serotonergic prophecies Saturday night like I did last week (reduced my SSRI recently).
Thanks for reading. Be well.
I’m going to kill you. You fucking shit.
Voices. Voices voices voices.
What a luxury hotel.
Stop talking, braindead subhuman no one. I’m gonna kill ye.
Dense insides necessitate heavy venting.
Sorry abt your ongoing suicide effortz.
You should leave me alone or I will not shoot a gun at you (in your face).