You know what else sucks?

Back when I bought that plane ticket to Norway, back in 2018, I didn’t force my psychosis, my hallucinations evolving.

Now, you’re the prime suspect in a murder plot, my would be assignation by your hands if you had spent the night at my house instead of a hostel.

How did we get here? Where does this winding road lead to next?

I can’t imagine you’d keep the line of communication open with me if I obeyed your ultimatum, and if this was the inevitable end of my madness, or rather, that my madness would go on, changing with no end in sight, would you be there again to comfort my woes or would I have to threaten you again with the idea of showing up in Norway?

Fuck this.