Really think about what you do everyday. Slow down for your phone. Watch showbox. Charge and die. The art of the dead. Its like stretching death. Haha, thats a glimpse from the future. Too far gone t o get them honestly. Dont know they dont move on. Bleed in writing the novel is attached to my dick. Maybe life is like the happy tree friends. Whisper to nobody ghosts you cant occupy my time. There was never such a thing i never depended on 90s chaos magic cyber reality hacking fans for my art and career. I am not nothing more than boingboing. Hgolgol bordello. The soundtrack of awkaward is my friend now. Good instincts. No one cares what your talking about its more like i ask people to read my diary and pretend to write it by hand. Cigarettes would be good. I m just talking to myself. That all my bad luck is not for me. Im just talking to me. That life accomplishments have to say hard now. How downner. Go back to sneaking into movies. My movies should be free ive decided. Just make it to the next level of life. You cant even eat your way out of this. I was fat when i was 10. Maybe ghosts demand people pay attention to them but now with twitter we care about dieing and not the dead. What is ouija and summoning anymore. These are only for chain smoking kids in art school. I have nothing to say now. I just bleed most of myself on the internet. Just let it all out to be let into a process. Then normality is built on an Apple color spectrum. The art doesnt need to exist. I can suffer in alonement with people watching. Its a harsh situation in my hands. Why not get pain meds. Nobody would ever be happening to choice the next level. Blindside the right placement. What the fuck just pour my heart out. What if i woke up 16 doing this. Now im that 31 year old guy. Notjing has changed. Everyone does the same generation thing. Its just one more addition. Thats all im saying. That i banished my friends a long time ago until bad health insurance fixed me which takes forever and creates a new 13 year old era.