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srealismAs monthly pms zone catastrophe
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whomever i have the highest hopes for
Inevitably makes a mockery of my hope
Which is my future
And i shall die alone
Of their ruling against me
Which does not mean nobody
Can make me happy
But that a great infinite number
Preferred other people
And i should
By all means
Hasten this loveless annhilation
But i will instead supplement
With an anti-depressant
Pretend that my appearance
Is not one of self-ruin
But that i can live engagedly
That i can endure
(And still there will be no tipping of the scale
Away from dying alone a winner of an endurance feat in my 60s glad to get away from those who get away from me, at long last, and to save them their embarassment that they might have required me to write them the one note that, for their own survival they would have to burn. It would not be selfishness it would have to be exhaustion. I wouldn't unless i had no other option, if evil finally won. But that some think I would and go through the motions of absolving themselves of something that won't happen is a relatedness wasting disease. ). But don't worry I'll take the antidepressant and go through the personality upendedness because right now seems about a good time for adjustment. The med error in April? I can't recall the medication's name. I've blocked it. It's dead to me. time is slow. The year has been eternal, vibrant, cool, and i can't boast about it at all simply because i cannot find anybody to take the picture of me as a friend. So i free you of my burden of aloneness. i let you go. You can look down on me bc I'm not going to prove to you you're wrong. I'm a survivor, and most don't know you can't tell them because all life experience is supposedly equal (y'all) .
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