i'm tired and i can't write right now.

that makes me sad.

it makes me sadder that it always feels like

my fault and that i have to kill someone for it.

maybe if i knew why...

naw it would still matter

fuck this shit.

i just slept another twelve hours and my chest is filled with golden green mucus
and my nose a fountain of the same... i feel like i'm dying.

cuz i am.

i have a fever and i can't taste anything.

i'm skipping work, i can't afford to.

i am miserable and pathetic.

i hope i feel functional soon.