ugh

i wonder if other people just get random thoughts like this.

"hey.  it's been a while.  maybe cutting your arm a lot hurts less now?  i bet it'd be fun to lick that blood up before it stains the sheets.  it's like a party!"

pretty much out of nowhere.

thanks, brain.  thanks for being sucky about everything.

thanks for fucking up everything, all the time, every day.  Good fucking job.

wow

sitting here, listening to music i remember from college.

CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT

turns out some things keep triggering when you don't expect them to.

i didn't.  i really want to, but i didn't.

i have a new dream shit story coming soon, probably.  unless i don't.  it's super gross, and i kind of hate it, but it's the me that's here now, so i should cope as much as i can.

have i told this new story?

read this first.

i'm visiting my friend again, who's now on the west coast, so it's all new and exciting to visit a new place.  but hawaii to mainland flights are scheduled at "impossible o'clock," so i get in at like 5am.

since she's super smart and loves sleep, she sends her husband to pick me up.  but at some point, he needs something from the glove box.

i legitimately can't remember what it was.  phone charger?  maybe?

whatever it was, it doesn't matter, because sitting next to the car book thing is my knife.

again.

it's super dirty, and the one rubber "stabby grip" that was always loose is gone, but when you've known a knife like i have, you'd recognize it anywhere.

"Yeah, that's it," he says as he grabs whatever it was and then the box is closed and i'm sitting there half stunned fighting jetlag as we drive home.


i kind of want to send her a note and ask that she take my knife out and drop it in the ocean.  give it to the whales to sort out.  whales are smart, right?  they'll do the right thing.