Look

You’re all reading this, and I’m tired.

I can’t sleep because of the door. I can’t stay because of the yelling. I can’t stop because of momentum and word, I can’t doubt because I already do. I can’t live because I’m broke, can’t choose because I’m worried, can’t talk because I’m quiet, can’t drink because I’m medicated, can’t be intimate because I’m hurt, can’t work because it’s all I talk about, I’m proud because I’m broken, I’m spiritual because I’m tired, I’m worried because I’m weak, I’m hungry because I’m broke, I’m doubtful because I know, and I’m sad because I’m happy. I’m moody because I’m addicted, I’m addicted because I’m hurt, and I’m hurt because I never got to choose. I’m alive because I stop, I stop because I run, I run because I’m late, I’m late because I’m early, I’m early because I’m anxious, I’m anxious because I’ve seen, I’m blind because I hear, I hear because I know, I know because I listen, and I listen because I’m quiet. I do because I can, I can do what I want, but I can’t because I’m stupidly overdrawn, I’m overdrawn because I’m lacking intimacy, I lack intimacy because I am fearful, I’m fearful because I’ve learned, I’ve learned because I’m smart, I’m smart because I’m thankful, I’m thankful because I’m alive, and I’m alive because I’m well. And that’s why I’m spiritual, because nobody can understand, that I’m not well. Until I’m nothing. And nobody is nothing. Except that stupid cunt of a bitch that I loved from F28 that won’t leave my goddamn freaking mind for some reason, because she lives in my doubt, because of F8, E44, and that other stupid jackass that called me queer and weird and I’m alone because I’m having a hard time letting go of the voice from upstairs and the ones from downstairs that have both tormented me and spared me at various moments during what must now be about 2000-3000 crisis line calls, to voices that I know, that say the same things, at each 20 minute mark it ends, I know that time, and death is a grace, and grace is a light, and light is a hope, and so that’s how you see my clearcoated undercoat of rainbow.

Please. Everyone. Calm the fuck down.

If you say it, I’ll hear it, but I might not understand until I’m 1-2000km away, and I don’t know how much more walking, running, smoking, and despair I can handle before I accidentally say this.