YEARNING

manic depressive fucked up lifestyle of someone much worse than the frogs that gaze into the doors of the nicest restaurants knowing their limbs will be savagely pulled off of them so people pretending to be fancy by ordering someone they don’t know anything about; kind of like my horrifying realisation I will die that I find out every day even though I’m sure it will be by my own hand I cannot imagine being in a place where I WAS DEPRIVED OF THE THINGS I SPENT MY DAY USING AND WANTING AND NEEDING I know I WOULDN’T SURVIVE IT as I am a weak creature by nature and am so MANICALLY FUCKED UP I won’t be able to do anything but be blinded by the things society condemns and yells at like how my parents scream at me for shopping in the wrong section to achieve an aesTHETIC I FELL IN LOVE WITH AS IT WAS MY ONLY WAY OUT because I couldn’t get my hands on any DRUGS except for ROBITUSSIN AND VICODIN AND even then a GOOD HIGH was impossible to achieve because of how weak the narcotics were like my BONES ACHING WITH FEAR AT AN ABNORMAL RATE and I look at my writing in criticism of the truth of my dark mind and I CONTINUE TO CRITICISE MYSELF EVEN WHEN I EXPRESS MYSELF to no one because the only people who care about me want to USE ME for their own horrid purposes and like the fateful frogs and deprived children I await my death in yearning for the pain I’ve endured is too much.