Contaminated.

Volatile chemicals are being dumped into my blood. Produced by my mind. Depression and frustration is in the wings. Got to get right. Hope I’m not too late in my going back on the medicine. How can two pills rewrite wiring in my head this effectively? Slept all day. Wondering what in the hell I’m going to begin writing about. Can’t think of a damned thing. I feel raw and exposed. I’m smelling my own stink. I’m thinking about women. Wondering when I’ll find myself in the position of being close to one. Somebody to care for, and in turn care for me. I want to sleep but I want to be awake. I’m looking for an epiphany. Always just waiting for it. Some germ of a though to bring wind into my sails. My utter lack of a life is beginning to send pain to all my nerves. My walls are closing in and my expansive bedroom is assuredly shrinking. How can life be so difficult to attain? I s

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Contaminated.

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