Today still feels like drowning. Drowning and detachment. I care so little right now. I don't know if that's true. I'm tired of trying. I want to destroy. Something. Myself. How would I do it? How will I do it? It all seems so messy. The way she plays with me. I am a plaything. Her plaything. An ant being held under a magnifying glass, long enough to burn, but not long enough to die. Can I lay down now please. Tonight. Just this once. And forever. Can this day be over now? Can this life be over now? I am not careless enough. This body wants to survive. It's how I know i'm a thing other than this body. Perhaps a parasite implanted by the virgin mother. Perhaps that is why I am so at war with myself. A body fighting itself since the virgin mother brought me back to life. Claiming it for herself. 90 days. Detox for 90 days.
This hurts.
A squeezing in the chest. Short of breath. Maybe tomorrow i'll feel better. If I die tonight, I won't find out.
If I get better, it will be easier to complete my goals. My deadlines.
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