Just Know That When I’m Alone, I Pinch My Lips Between My Fingers And Pull Them Down While I Think

You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain. You're rotting my brain.

Please don't ever fucking stop.

yours and mine

ultraviolence

I feel like I’m not here. Although im strangely serene.

People talk to me and Im so calm and patient and conversational, like my usual mask has been boosted and it does not require the same effort it always does.

I’m floating. I don’t know what is going on around me.

I can’t centre my brain to understand emails. But I am serene.

Imagine they saw the pain inside me and asked me about it. What would I say? That’s why I can’t allow any pain to be seen.

I think that’s is why my brain has put me in this serene state.

But I am in pain. Like many books say, there is an empty whole in my chest.

Martin Buxbaum