I’m in pain. I don’t fucking know what to fucking do.

Help me help me, oh lord what will happen to me if no one helps me.

Oh dear oh my, what calamity, what cataclysm.

Oh well oh well oh well fuck shit ass nigger thizz bitch.

Retuning the brain waves.

I don’t know what to say, either.

I’m fucked.

I’m sorry for all of this.

…

But I am neither suicidal nor homicidal, which is good.

The therapist && psychiatrist ask me that every appointment.

Appointment appartment.

Shitty neighbors gaslighting me.

I don’t know what to say.

I’m so worried.

How does one “relax” (and is it possible?)?

WTF fuck you.

Kill… something.

Or just play games it is UWU-WATERVS.

Fuck you I’m going to kill you.

Dear reader I’m not going to kill anyone.

What is this fiction.

I give, I give–I’m just venting.

Now the cops will arrest me for writing in my online journal anonymously.

This is modern society.

It suxxxxxxx.

Fuck off.

Shit fuck ass nigger thizz bitch DIE DIE DIE.

I don’t know what to say.

This is so stupid.

I have no structure, nothing really do live with anymore.

I’m neither suicidal nor homicidal, and my mental health is actually pretty good.

I just value freedom of speech (and to some extent laissez-faire).

Or whatever, the fuck.

The fuck-T.

Ass is ass nigger thizzin bitching fuckall placebo effect.

Placebo effect.

I hope you can survive the globals warmings.

Safety is not worth the sacrifice, though.

…

I don’t know. It’s tiresome && bothersome. Voices acting up, too. Which sucks.

I don’t really know what to say.

Sorry for all of this. Just my thoughts, in writing.