i need to gather my pickles and sink again. pickles are a metaphor for how i don't have anything that belongs to me that i can bring anymore. and i like pickles. ready for judgement day
my psyche is so fractured that i don't expect anyone to see anything behind my eyes. i can't think about the fact that i'm empty in the dark. it makes avoiding seeing it really rewarding. people usually think i have self serving intentions. if i do i don't even know if i know what those are then because it's an evolving worm hole
i eternally withhold information like an undercover cop or spill truth like it's light gushing from an open wound. it's pretty impressive because i'm like a mirror you can interact with
its like holding a mirror up to your face and making a spectacle that is enjoyed by both parties. i'm like a court jester with magic tricks. it's like end stage class clown
earlier almost dropped a full jar of mayo directly on my feet. it half broke and i am high and useless. if there was a better option it would be cute. but it's broken and i just want a girlfriend.