how, if you close your eyes, and think of yourself, you can kind of envision a universe of "you," where you have these slices of reality shooting out from you, where you recognize that this slice is this one thing that makes the you you are the you you are.
"fucking christ, sammy. you said you were going to stop drinking, because you've again fucked up your liver!"
yes. i did. and i'm trying. but trying involves diluting vodka with tea. tea apparently is full of caffeine. i'm bad at everything i do.
but that bad is this "mostly square, but has these weird blocky juts that stick out" shape that's colored black and is down there. like, imagine you're flying. and all of you is colored differently, and takes up different bits of the sky. that shitty bit is down there, and it's this big square because it's slowly consuming my me. and it's black, because it's not a healthy thing.
and that music i heard is that tiny zig-zag shape that i remember from long ago. it's over to the left and up a bit.
new title: "sorry. i think i'm going crazy. like, losing connection with reality crazy. sorry. i'll try to hold my ducks together better."
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