I was crossing the street the other day rather recklessly, a car almost hit me a bystander gasped in horror.
I kept on walking, thinking I was idiot not looking before crossing, ten-year olds know that batter than me, It was people like me that make this fucking country the fucking shit it is, waste of skin, that risked what probably was a careful driver to being responsible for an accident a selfish bastard, mediocre loser, cancerogenous ulcer in life… etc.
Pretty harsh huh? I thought so too... and I wondered "wow is that me, saying those things?"
Silence.
It wasn’t me, the voice came from my head but it wasn’t me talking. Is that how people hear voices?
No, crazy people don’t know they are crazy But even if I’m not, keep thinking it can't be healthy... and I’m sick of thinking there might be something wrong with me, something wrong in what I think, in how I feel... I how I act... pretty much everything I am.
Today it’s my birthday... it’s the first time I forgot about it. Happy Birthday... You little piece of shit.
(8 days late)
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