I may have had too much loneliness to drink. I think that I have become drunk.

I'm looking at all the pretty, pretty colors on the birds that fly by and it makes my heart ache something fierce.

"My, my, aren't you a special thing! Right fit to make my heart burst with sickness." My hand jolts in rythmic patterns as I hold the blade and fight tthe urge to drive it into my eye.

I"m just finding outlets and sticking paperclips into them. My teeth clench and my tongue hurts from the strain. Where is my brain?