no. no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

no please no what no no please no fuck no NO.

it’s hitting. that moment of ‘did an anvil really just fall on my heat?’ has passed and i am feeling that anvil. oh lord am i feeling that anvil.

it was all a lie.
all a lie.
it is only my respect for you parents that will prevent me from murdering you outright. but please understand this: i am never, ever speaking to you or passing notes to you or texting you or doing fucking sign language with you ever again. i would rather eat dog shit full of razor blades than have anything to do with you.

i want to scream until all my bones break.
once. twice. again.

but reality. well, reality is the anvil.

i’m experiencing hurt-and-pain-at-once.


shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

here’s the sick, twisted thing: part of me thinks i deserve this.
that maybe is i wasn’t such an asshole…

did someone die?
yeah, i did.

well, then . . . welcome to the afterlife.