#feeling so so soso so unwell what is wrong. the reality that the floor will swallow me
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imagine if all my friends were the same person. not as if the thought just made me violently sick of whatever
#random thoughts#what if everyone were the same person. what if everyone were a version of myself. what if i am alone and all around me is false#solipsism is a rather egotistical belief system isn't it? but what if i am the only? are we not all crispins? hello crispin. hello crispin.#but what if there are only two people in the world? and the other person is everyone else?#the thought tears at my viscera. my head knocks the tiles as i write and i think i like the feeling of cold floor#it's like in my story. the one i wrote earlier. published#i feel so. no. like i. can't maybe. respond? respond? my crispin speak to me#icannotfuckingbreathe. hello? it's lovely to there is no-one else her meet you. my town is so empty all over#crawling with what? my skin is and so is my whole body#i want to tear away my veins and so knees press buttons unsolicited unseemly. i am the knuckle-bones they throw#throw me away!! i am!! or was!! were!! the people!! cannotfunction#feeling so so soso so unwell what is wrong. the reality that the floor will swallow me#and i will remove my casque et trouver une room blanche and i am seated and the world was fake. it's how i imagine death#neat little cubicles of white. everything hurts how dare you pretend the sun#i couldn't and cannot again read this over my sickness weakens me#in serbian it's rather poetic; moja bolest me slabi. i think. at least to me it's lovely#oh no oh no oh yes i am distracting this is good this is so very good this is so very good
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