im back on the pen.

fuck.

i missed you more intensely than i ever have today. for a few minutes

memories.

i know im fine.

why am i playing this character?

the pen.

im so dramatic, internal, dark, self-pitying.

the pen.

ugh, fuck.

but i dont want to be in control right now.

was i feeling too in control for the past few weeks? is that even a thing?

yeah, totally.

i need to let the monkey out.

but, for me, the monkey is this dark piece —

this demon.

just coming out to play.

does the depression come before or after the pen?

fuck.

im lower than i thought.

i sleep as long as i can. i dont care to move forward.

fuck, ive been here before.

i get lost. i get lost in not caring. i dont want to be in control bc its so. fucking. hard. all the time. to be in control. its so hard. im so tired.

but right now im coasting.

i want to hit a bottom — not the bottom, but a bottom. a low. i want to find it. i want to bask in it. i want to focus on being beautiful. i want to feel the pain in every pore. i want to be hopelessly immersed in feeling the rawness.

ill find my way out. when i want to.

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