I feel like death. I got rapid muscle breakdown from drug use, sore all over, ear infection still, customers on my ass (i don’t blame them), friends trying to talk to me while i’m stuck in bed, and I can’t get my epileptic medicine because i missed an appointment. Oh yeah, and I’m broke as usual.
I hate all these shootings lately. Society is falling apart, and i’m not sure it’s guns to blame. I’m pretty sure crisis suffering individuals will kill with a chefs knife or their hands if they have to.
I’m pretty sure i fucked my brain. I can’t focus on shit or motivate myself. I hear howling wind all the time, i see snow that’s not there, and walk a bit like a fucking robot with autism.
Atleast I can drink alcohol and sleep.
As bad as my dad was, we did party. It had to end, because he was drinking too much, and accusing me of poisoning him. The hospital of veteran affairs told him he had dehydration and alcohol poisoning, which is the only reason he hasn’t shot me yet.