staying sane

I don’t know why I don’t write anymore. It’s like I forgot how to use my words, I forgot how insane I am, I forgot how much color is in my head, how deep my sub consciousness is. Until the cracks start to get bigger and finally break open and I bleed onto myself. I look down at the blood and remember again — I’m mortal, my brain is running, churning, observing, and I’m more alive than I have ever been. I look down at the blood and remember that I’m free.

Innocence is both bliss as it is loss. I try to be ignorant so I can forget about being weird. I confuse adrenaline with passion so I drink 3 coffees and a Diet Coke a day and keep pretending until nothing feels real. Dissociation or protection?

“How to live in a brain you can’t exist in?”

Don’t write, don’t overshare, don’t overstimulate, always play music, learn to regulate. Don’t love too hard or too fast, learn to dissociate, hangout with people more unintelligent than you, remember to smile, don’t move too fast.

I follow the rules and I stay numb, even when the blood drips down my arms, onto my lap.