pelafina

12 hours straight locked up in soical skill hell. I'm wishing that I
could say I'm better for it.
While folding shirts, counting money and other highly insightful
things...
I held the invisible emotional barrel in my mouth and slowly guided my
finger along the trigger. As if I'm mentally masturbating with the
idea.

I wanted to write him a nice long letter about how distance can build
core strength, trust is a viture, and longing hasn't pulled me under
quite yet. Instead all these spiders of doubt keep crawling from my
wrists and mouth. I just can't focus on why I'm not crying.


I think I'm at a low ebb.
Complete with murphys law in full force.


I begged my insta soul mate to just put me out of my misery. He told me
we just have to preserve.

Preserve...
How Nicole preserves.
This is the road to shut down. Shut down involves castle walls up.
Castle walls up mean getting on the plane. Getting on the plane means
fucking up again.

Not getting on the plane means possible suicide.

Bah.

My heart is acheing.
My mind is melting.

I am going to emplode with dejection and longing and fear.


I'm standing in the corner, head down, white dress, blood everywhere...

"But I'm okay when everything is not okay"???
*n