Wake Up Fuckin' Sweating Like A Pig, GOD DAMN IT Can't I Just Get Some Good Cold / Warm Sleep Without
Wake up fuckin' sweating like a pig, GOD DAMN IT can't I just get some good cold / warm sleep without cookin.....
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The date is Saturday, January 18th, 2025. Time: 17:11 Eastern Standard Time. Four Hundred milligrams diphenhydramine, 25mg a pink. 4 = 100 milligram, this is 16 antihistamine pill, I have Yet to consume, I have a tiring weight on my body und mind, it is only 2 hours past 3pm. I am going to watch the movie "Trainspotting" in the basement of my home in the boring Amerikan state which I have been born and trapped unto. I am debating another four, just to round up to twenty, but I am unsure. 21%.. 20%. 17:17. I Havent taken it yet. The headaches and the bothering when I even simply move my eyes, it feels as If i am already undee the influence. It's cold, the fuckin' winter season, and I sweat and burn. The first time, I couldn't even be bothered to count the millies and count the amounts, I mean seriously, how truly depressing is that. Now I'm only pretending that anything I do actually covers up the fact that I am actively and knowingly misusing these things. Maybe it does make it better, to be noting and such but... end of day, It is for the bore of life As I know it. I dont know..
4mg clorpheniramine, 525mg diphenhydramine, and if I so need, some acetaminophen / paracetamol in case this headache gets worse, i cant recsll the exact countagw and Im not getting the bottle. Genuinely, i will not take them If i do not generally feel the need, whether or Not I will keep up to date through journaling events, whether on tumblr or in document, I cannot say. Movie takes priority.
10/2/24)Combative reflection,reflective off glass,tip the flask n tip the head,none left to give a 2 to th apron or smock, move like a speck in evry slept slavin eye,sharp pinprick in unshaded space, the light is shattering n brightened,flick off the lid of pen and trip on th very same thing,under spell followsuit th grime wearin' shitsmear chipwhite cuntry bumpkin.Dont be a pig,hounddog,man,or bigwig, rather drop dead or wakeup clutching my headless corpse,walkin to the cab to pocket someodd pill,to take a walk into storm of grim rambunctious disfunction at some folkriddled park,random bastion of slippinlife in the spillover of a neon prison,Cold nippin at the gums,caress the fine flower nip,tidbit & siphon nectar like it's honeyed silk,too absorbed in the beauty to realize your eyes savor it with a jealous craven carnation,triple lip quiver and tri-edged poison tip arrows,rip memories from the stem,spine spun lies rooted deep in the conscious,try as you may to avoid the waking monster within, fear the shadows and fear half-moon faces,when lookin in the mirror deeper than the glass skin would show somethin ya shld better fear,all of your own voices whisperin in ur ear,graspin memory shards like soft caress of some once-lovers touch,cut ya deep cut ya bad,like th sum of your vices,like the she-beast I envision watches from my open closet,like I remember once seein her, turnin myself in fear of her,where my mirror sits,peer through my flesh by hidden meatslits,free the pureself,try as ignore,taken 2 her breast,she hold me deep within wide driven breadth of all corners of her flesh,claw against th egoista n' barbed wirehung bitch swinging sabers like barred teeth,4 show unless shown 2have gone pro,fall in2 a dream,fall in2 th shadows,obscured by own inhibitors,like any other useless untapped potential,like puttin a perfectly good bomb rite back in th box,how'd ya even get it out 2 begin,our second place,like a cure 2 dysfunction & losing it not so many months after,riddled w/ shit that just aint holes, and thats the issue, no spongebob or enemy of the amerikan gov,not worth a spatula or a handful of brass,sittin on a flask of poision & ash,waste not yet meant to b
https://www.instagram.com/rythm.squid?igsh=Z2Rqa2F3Y2dxbWxk
Like Hey everybody, call me whatever you like, I like to make a lot of names to keep things moving & people guessing
I'm Ruby, I'm Jackie, I'm Ika, I'm Squid, Lydia,,,
I'm a gal I'm a guy I'm a monster I'm a saint, and an angel
HELLO!!
dog viciously attacks rei ayanami
•Love in action is a harsh and dreadful thing compared to love in dreams•
It is done. With an unfortunate exception of both Kurohyo for PSP, still hunting. Now waiting for Virtua Fighter and Project Century.
In a world of evil, games often do not allow you to be an evil
Medias , especially these interactive ones, they should allow us the freedom of mistake , of losing and winning, and not just in some half-batch particularly programmed way, , We should be able to observe, to become, to feel, true evil, true loss
Like a book, like a movie , what's with the hesitation, spit up the walls which cover us from truth of horror..
Tuesday January 14th 2025 - On The Subject Of KondemningYourSoul / Love Fool
Somehow I'm kind of tearing up, Iim suprised surpsid , ive been sweating all day, and maybe my eyes were a little wet over the course, im suprised im not dehydrated, or maybe I am.. I'm a sickly sort.. I'm a lovefool, I'm really head under heels and congealed blood and fat. My head aches constant, I get some sense of terrible overwhelming pain, flashing of tormenting images in the brain, things I want to see , wnd things I don't, like I'm young again, the mind drifts to places I wish to not go. I constant miss that girl again, I don't understand myself. I miss her , And i miss Her, and then I miss you, and I miss me. Taking a nap, taking a close at the eyes no longer can help, if ever, for these things chase me everywhere I go. Dreams strike at my soul, sickness plagues my peace. Beautiful women, purity in faces, professional curiosity and improfessional unprofessional nonconfessional gaze and impressionable chants of love and taste, hungering and loathing.. My body jolts against the uncomfortabilities of my own skin, I'm no better I'm no worse. I'm in haze, old me return, new me resolve, retribution of spirit, fall short, fall falls short, losing my time .. The tantalizing land of wonder und dreams, drape of shadow which follow my every move, nothing now seems so bright or magnificent, 15:50, put down in mind, wake up 5 hours later when I was busy wishing I never would have. I don't feel up to par, five strokes from the goal and fifty yards from my heart, watch it walk away and feel self slip like some kind of evilous number.. my head hurts still and it's a day later , i feel unreal , UGH . This is the kind of thing called dissociating, this isnt some playground fucking term. This is Hell, this is horrible. I want to be me , I want to feel me, and I can't do either. This isn't fun. This isnt hashtag hash it out with a friend or family, I can't explain it, I can't fix it. Therapy couldnt cure this sickpy feeling, I know because I'm not a fool, and I know the kinds of things these cognitive behavioral bullshit shrinks pull. I have much to write, but it doesn't come out right. I'm having stiflings in the work, the month long stiflings, of the dystopian future and such. 33.8431° S, 151.2843° E Take a leap across the gap in my heart and head. I feel like I'm you, how many times must I write it, before I shall forget I ever knew a relation between you and I? 26-DEEPJOY-88 bpm Ramble and rate, the thimble thunder and debate, sixty six percent six feet under such sexual sequences of soulless abandon, work and work keep on working and living in a place you dont love. Educate me and birth me here, force me to die here, I want to die to take myself somewhere else. I slip through your arms, slip through my own hands, slip like to clay, but all over my arms. Compress and say , Oh dear do I hope to find someone dear some day. I hate the way you look at me, I hate the way you talk to me, pain is all that wakes this ugly fool, half a woman half a hound, good for nothin men all throughout my life, and I'm something half-pint short from just another one of them. Sweating like a pig und living like one too, ayuda me, por favor, lo siento por mi poor favours
Love feels like some kind of lie, for I fail to feel it more often than not. I said I wanted to go to a funeral only because I hate my home and hate this scenery, I feel only slightly bad for the natural passage of what we call time, this thing we call aging, the final passage of this horrid survival, this horrid life. Put on a sad face, or a mourning one, block out the face of multitudinous facial warpings, the faces of a face of another, How can I say how much you mean? When I know not what that might mean, what do you mean? And so I wish I knew, struggle and stry, stray and strawberry, I like to imagine I once knew the taste of you, but I know the truth, that I know not even of how you smell, no fragrance nor scent, not even sweat nor stench.. I pretend instead I may have once felt your blood, and I do so with my own, with my pen, it belongs not to me, and neither do you. This world is not ours, and we are not long for it, sometimes I hope we meet again, in someone else, in ourselves... But I can't be sure I will ever get my own flesh back.. maybe you could say th3 same. I won't pretend I'm you, but I won't pretend either that my mind doesnt trick me, doesnt lead me to wonder sometimes if I'm not so unlike you. Does it get better for women like you? Did it? And how about fools like me? If it never gets better for you, then surely I cannot expect it either.. 10:47 January 15th 2025
The day I stop, I'll surely have been retired of the inkwell within me
Death
