I miss you and I would like to rationalize it. I find artifacts of your existence when I clean my room. When I roam the island that we both made beautiful. When I look at sad people, When I look at happy people. They all point somehow to you. You made me happy and I had to let you go. To prove something to yourself. To make other people proud. Will it hurt you that I am not proud. That I see you doing it just for yourself, or your internal desires. Remember what I said, don't th...

and I don't know what to do anymore. I'm exicted and anxious. This anxiety has to be a physical problem. A chill pill will put me to sleep, the fuckers took away my shit. I'm so anxious and I don't know what to do anymore. this is a journal of someone in the middle of an anxiety attack. no big deal, just eat drink and smoke until you release the tension or have some quick sex. who fucking knows. a chill pill might be the answer, but I don't want to go to sleep. shopping alone is so boring. ...

consume me because I bring you happiness. consume me like i bring back memories of times not so complicated. like i soothe your feelings of being inadequate. like swallowing my produce adds to your chemistry. turns your psychoactive complications into a smooth mood of blue and green. like being with me makes everything eco-friendly. tell me these things, all though your eyes already have. i hear the paragraph every time you come up for air. everytime you're doing something that you really do...

another drink to pass the time that seems to stand still. and the yearning for a lighter child doesn't dim as fast as the hope for the realization of the yearning. another sip of this spoilt water to create a feeling not nearly as boring as the feeling i feel now. on this sticky island life becomes slower and food and liquor create any speed that you may feel. and the not so good looking shorter person that i slept with the other night, yearns for my attention. or so i would like to think....