I just about had maybe a week with no voices, and now they’re back.
Desperately I want to think I love you despite them being in my head, not because they’re in my head, but I think back to New York, when you tied my shoelaces together.
What the fuck was going on with you?
I feel like when I think about that time, back then, the past, it was always me just noticing things too late, like you were always just able to get away with whatever nefarious plot you had been party to.
And that shit makes me feel bad, for whatever reason I get a hole in my stomach and I just want it to go away. To walk away from all this, but here I am again, writing to myself I suppose, and anyone that wants to read this.