It was only two. It’s like eating pastries is better. Like, no coughing.–just good food, desert no less. I love deserts
I found it.
He found it.
WhatofI’m watching them fall in not it? No
happen’s with me then?
Like my life.
So many words. What is it going to be?
So, that’s what itwasI had mybrainlateatnightI never take bioisme like
i getit ik ik what happened.I gotsleepyanditwaslkeyougetwhenyourhigh ,nowaitwhattge fuck
let me write this down.
is weed better than Divalproex.?
what is happening.
Weed is the better option.
Wait is it let me tell you that I cantpuntuate
Okay, so I see what made me write like how I do, he likes puzzles. He is me. Like, his dnaishakfmune soI think like he would have had he followed the path his father wanted him too.
The reason I write this way, is bc I am writing on A shit phone. Like, my writing is stunted by this thing.
trust me there are words better than this to say what I am meaning to say but writing like this stunts me this little phone
it is doing is making me want to run. I get this warm feeling in my knees then my ankles.
I can run while Ibsit here but I clickthewrongbuttons,so know I am writing in riddles on accident sometimes then I remember. I have tbi and I want to study my brain, but I can’t pass human bio.
I know I can but its hard onceI forget again..damn if I clickallthe buttons. I will forget. Like I if I kept clicking the insert punctuation butto n I’d forget so I am not t
Dear bard. I have a traumatic brain injury and Iwant to study me, and science, and artwhile I publish my first novel. So,omg my brain is so fun look this isnotfair. I could do so much if I got outofhere. Out of this drug induced axons thatIhavebeeninfor years. But
no,wait if I hadn’t had this, this type of articulation would have been impossible
so, you would never know
brainssecondlooksatthebiggerpictur; no one does. Wait, so that is how I look..
Wait no it’s it. It is it. You are sill
That’s it 5 pounds is not that much.
I have to get high before I can think about science like this.,like..bio
its bio manitsfuckingbio. Brains and stwhy can’t I pass? Btw bio is my jam. PhysiologyPhysco is what Ide excel in
It is difficult to even momentarily imagine not regretting death, but if you look at things a little differently you would see where I am coming from.
So do it, try. Let go of everything momentarily and look beyond yourself. You are small just take a moment to appreciate just how fucking small you are in the grand scheme of things.
Imagine, if you will, yesterdaylastyearnextmonththe next ten years without the friendships you have gained through this death. Imagine living not knowing what you know now. Imagine; just, imagine it.
http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=chasing%20pavements does it make sense anymore; even in my own traumatically injured had I’ve lost track whether or not to give it a rest, or to give it my all and nottostopuntilyousubmit. He hasn’t said no yet.
When you looked into my eyes so intently, you were seeing something, searching. Maybe you were looking for something there that was never there. Something that I could never have given you.
They might’ve stunted my growth if hesheitthey had let them go on living beside me. I wouldn’t have reached my full potential, if they remained alive I may have reached my plateau. Plateaued before I was meant to… That’s it. It has to be.
I would have mindlessly followed them around waiting for some validation that no one on earth could ever have given me.
No one on earth okmaybesomeone,butthosepeoplethatknowwhatIdoareunable,or have no desire to articulate it for others is able to get the messages that I was sent back here to share with humanitycivilizationbchumanityisjusthumans,andIspeaktoanimalsuponoccassion.
I need no validation; but, I do, we all do…toacertainextent…
Sent back to life here to suffer in the wrong places. Sent here to see glimpses of beauty.
Stay with me and always be beautiful.
Maybe I was sent back here to give some grand message that only I know, and that only I will be able to write down because I have isolated myself for reasons unbeknownst to me. Only isolated by this feeling of isolation that lives inside of me somewhere, isolated bc of me.Itsoundsannoyingtometoo,barewithmehere.
Maybe someone got killed today…
Maybe lots and lots of someones.
Always at odds withmyself.Always waiting for some truth that no one can tell me.
Just waiting for someone to tell me…tell me what? Tell me that I suffered more, so now I can be free to gain my reward? Howcouldanyoneeversaywhichhumanbeinghassufferedmorefromthesameevent?
I have fought with myself for long enough.
I was hurt. I was hurt really badly.
It is time to stop waiting.
It is time to stop waiting.
Time to stop comparing. We all hurt depending on so many objective and even some still not fully explored subjective reasons.
I love the brain.
While we are waiting for someone to have the answers to something that according to logic they will never ever, with100%truthoraccurocy, be able to fully define; while we are waiting, we must remember our breathing techniques.
Dangerously difficult is what you are; daring to defy logic to cause me to take one last glance. Defiantly I will look back, only to find you determined to make me feel like I am the only one getting addicted.