okay, but, bear with me here: if i stuck my hands in my mouth i wouldn’t be able to stop going. i’m quite sure i’d devour myself. it’s not romantic or pretty but in my head it’s the only way to quiet those ******* thoughts.

they’re eating me alive, and they forgot to chew.

(okay, but, bear with me here: they’re eating me alive. they didn’t even bring a fork or set down a handkerchief, and they’re talking with their mouths open, laughing about this one old lady they punched in the street. they’re real *****. they’re real pieces of work.)

hey, hey, hey, getting malevolent up in here; mind your ******* manners.

language, language, language, getting violent up in here, mind your ******* manners.

what’s it matter, what’s it matter? where was i obligated to be good? why do i ******* care? i’ll be dead soon. i’ll be dead soon. such a stupid thing to care about, such a useless thing. i’ll be dead soon.

(take your elbows off the table, shut your ******* mouth; you are a guest in the house that is my brain. push your chair in when you stand up, please.)