166 hands in my pockets, straightjacket mind, it's gettin easy

so if you couldn't tell (i don't really expect you to be able to) i've been slipping backwards, supposedly "pretty badly" but i never think anything is bad enough. my mom called my old trainer in colorado and asked her to look for a buyer for lenardo. if they get rid of my horse i will literally have no reason not to starve myself to death. just sayin

my hair isn't that disgusting anymore i promise

my friend keeps texting me and i'm too tired to reply. no i don't really want to hang out on sunday. hey this is so familiar, it's amazing how easy it is to fall back into this bullshit. i'm not really seeing what i'm typing the world is kind of far away and the screen is just a hallucination, there's something pushing on my eyes from inside my head and i have a headache

you blink once and the ghosts are back and your skin is just paper stretched across bone, the things i want i can't hold