Yesterday, I was insane. But today is a new day. I had my 8h of sleep. I feel restored, the dream Sandman brought sanity back to my pure being. He made me visit many wonders, altered my neurological chemicals. The recipe of my brain is a safe potion to drink. Nothing matters anymore, but the four white walls that surround my sore body. I will have coffee soon, talk to my parents, play the Switch. My dog will jump on me like an idiot. We made it, to today, again. Well done son.
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Story by Person who can rawr
DiversosI write in here when I feel insane. Read this if you want an uncomfortable trip down the crappy slumbering parts of the human neuronal slush. An ode self-hatred.
