260815

I have so much to write. This is not it. This post, this is not it. I need to write and I want to write, I have so much to write this evening, but my head is mangled, it’s fit to burst with so many ideas, so many thoughts, constantly shifting from space to space, not showing any signs of slowing down into singular, coherent, logical thoughts. I can’t catch them, the thought, the idea, the feeling, the truth, the sentence, the word, it comes to my head and the moment I acknowledge it I reach out to grab it and it’s gone, totally gone, melted into the blind darkness, leading me to question whether words were even there in the first place. Everything is too much, too much. And now it is Wednesday which is by far the worst day of the week. I fucking hate Wednesdays. I’m going to take some quetiapine and pass out and hopefully when I wake up in the morning my brain won’t be microwaving my thoughts, so then my thoughts won’t be jumping around like popcorn in a paper bag and Wednesday will be a Writing Wednesday instead of a Wallowing Wednesday.

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