for breakfast this morning I had three cigarettes and a couple lines of ritalin, then puked blood for a while and washed it down with a red bull.
i fucking hate my life, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
What? you wanted something warm and cuddling?
well, you should have hired someone else to do it then, shouldn't you? I told you to get an actor or a singer or someone else with mental problems. Fuck all of you.
Every day since I've been back in this endless shithole has been like being repeatedly hit over the head with a ball-peen hammer. Every single day, I wake up in the morning and can feel my brain swelling, bulging up against the thin parts of my skull.
If I look in the mirror really closely, I can see where my skin gets sucked in through the tiny cracks in my skull.
One day, big chunks of my head are going to burst off and blood and poison will geyser out of my skull into your faces and you'll all choke on my bile and exploded brain-meat.
Before I am done here, you will all taste my brain meat.
Get off me, you dogfuckers. I'm on a roll, no god dammit don't take away my inhaler you bastard