Things have been much more….chaotic lately. Old friends contacted, ex-therapists called, nights where I scream ideations out loud, I think at one point I was disengaging my depression groove, now all I want is a pill that will kill who I am and stop me from caring. I hate my memories, which is funny because I repressed a few years away and yet now all I want is that. Sometimes I have this funny feeling like every two years my memory resets, like some kinda flunky robot. I had a thought the past few days about horror as a genre, usually the series are always a one night, one day survival. Yet I can’t help but wonder or be excited by the notion of a horror series that ended by exhaustion. Eventually all humans need sleep, eventually the system would be so damaged the only hope would be to collapse. Life feels like an analogue for that, not wealth or race like some movies, family and distance others, but a real unstoppable unmovable force draining you until there was nothing to give. Lately that’s how I feel, I’m finally at my Reki point and it’s beautiful. It’s cold and I don’t care, I don’t care about others at any point past them being okay. It hurts to say that, but everything i say here is melodramatic, maybe I put it out here so people can hate me. Or maybe I’m just sick overall. I know all that shits a lie, that if someone needed something I’d be there, but I’m getting tired and I just don’t want to wake up. Maybe one day I can make a song or a drawing about it, a force that overcomes a survivor.