2010 October 20 Wednesday
Sour. Twisted. A stabbing pain. Swallow paint. I am feeling terribly resentful of my rivals this waking hour. There is nothing good within my reach. Sweetness like spoiled milk. Eggs on the walls. My mind is jumping around rotten thoughts so quickly I'm wearing out. I must had eaten a little monster, because I'm feeling pretty twisted. I had thrown up but the earth didn't want to take my horrible gift so it shoved it back down my throat. Foul, sticky and disgusting, like medicine we were forced to take when we were kids. Touch me and your hand will rot within seconds, like a virus that will infect everything, and I will quickly drag you down with me.
Maybe I just need some attention because I'm feeling quite bitter tonight.
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