So I fucked yo because-

I told you what I have saved up right now?

Great! So what?!

I’m just candid and honest, it’s not as if I’m going to give it all to you or anything, I was just sharing investment ideas.

I don’t get why I’m being bothered about this now…

Vision of a Happy Marriage

Apparently, if we had stayed together, I’d come home to a bunch of dudes in the house, you in bed.

They’d tell me it’s a gangbang, I’d go first but really, I’d just be getting sloppy seconds.

Some sick joke.

I know I watch pornography but why would I be tortured with this in my mind?

Who doesn’t separate the fantasy from reality?

Who believe porno is real?

Certainly no I.

Hate Fuck

So… you have enough sex until you’re “closed for business” (red engorged and painful vulva)

the. They force their member inside, impregnate you, and then, on the day of conception, abuse your vagina until it’s in the same condition again, and watch you try to birth a child, pain on top of more pain.

am I getting this right?

Another example of what’s flowing through my noggin

Corporal Punishment

Am I supposed to fucking feel bad for the things I can’t control?

you want me to not be able to fucking express myself? The only goddamn thing I fucking have now?

You want to use that against me?!

Go fuck yourself in a bad way.

IDKE

Voices are saying that I don’t know enough about you to be able to date you and I assume see you again.

I’m willing to learn, just not through disembodied voices.

Incest

Voices say your dad fucks you better than me.

They also say your family was never related to one another

that you were all adopted from different countries.

Which is probably another example of why step family porn is still popular.

This has been going on for a while now.

I don’t know what to say or do

and I’ve said this before

but for anyone reading this that wants to know what I’m going through, this is a small sample or some of the deranged thoughts and voices in my head.

Take care of yourself.

Taylor Swift?

Randomly that song that goes

“we are never ever ever getting back together”

Just plays in my head.

I don’t listen to Taylor Swift.

Maybe that one song that literally one time “Shake it Off” but that was it.

Anyway no T. Swift songs are going on the playlist, never ever ever…

They say-

The only thing you’re good at is giving up on things.

Giving up on people

Hobbies

Relationships

You’re only good at giving up.

So they say at least.

Birthday

The next important birthday is my brothers, then AMERICA’S 🇺🇸 🦅 🎆

Yours isn’t for a while, but they say “saying happy birthday” would let you know I’m safe?

Thats definitely not the case. We need a long talk, something, idk not just “HaPpY bIrThDaY” like some weird UNO Reverse card on my psychopathy.

Be safe.

Brain Sludge

Someone said people with my condition might be more likely to develop Alzheimer’s.

I wonder, if that happens to me, if I’ll remember you, or if I’ll die without memories at all.

Sounds better than them plaguing me in the short term but in the long term, very sad.

“You need to have sex with men to get a gf”

So say the voices.

And I’ll say this plainly:

I see you everywhere, even places I don’t want to see you.

I almost uploaded a video to a “reminders” folder, yes a porno, I think I apologized for that but if I didn’t, I apologize, you’re not that kind of person, maybe.

But still, I’m not about to go fuck dudes to get with girls,

And yes you’re right, this is just hallucinations,

But the less I sleep, the louder they get, and now I’m on day fucking TWO of no fucking sleep,

So you do the goddamn math.

I’m not mad at you.

Insomnia, Again

Since Tuesday I haven’t been able to sleep. I even took two trazadone tablets last night and it still didn’t knock me out.

I have no idea what’s going on, all I do know is that the voices are out of control, but! Still more manageable than when I tried to go and see you.

They tell me all kinds of stories about what’s happening on your side of the world, people I don’t know, people I do know and don’t speak to, what I should or what someone would be doing in my place.

I don’t take the time to write it all down because it’s either explicitly graphic in sexual detail or violent, and also I try not to give it too much thought and chalk it up to “hallucinations.”

Still, I’d like to believe some of the nice things they say, about me, or us, but woe is me.

Reality plays a much more downtrodden and bitter tune.

A Wall

While the voices claim you were never meant for me, but someone else, he who shall not be named publicly, I keep thinking of the police in Norway.

I remembering walking with them to the courthouse holding cell, they didn’t use force and didn’t handcuff me, they allowed me to walk alongside them, and follow directions.

In hindsight, I do remember thinking “I could just run” but I didn’t. And now I think, well, the police had all my things.

Clothes.

Wallet.

Cellphone.

Even if I got away I’d be stranded.

Even if I had my credit cards I’d leave a paper trail and they could find me wherever I decided to rest at night.

It’s the illusion of choice almost.

I did what was in my best interest, almost on instinct. I don’t remember thinking out the “what ifs” but maybe it all flashed briefly in my mind.

Say Anything, or not

The voices say you “don’t know what to say” or “you don’t have anything to say.”

That’s fine, I’m used to the radio silence.

What I’m not used to is taking my medication regularly and still being bombarded by their creatures, ghouls, ghosts, apparitions.

If you do want to say something, I’ve given you plenty of things to at least respond to, but it’s your world, and I’m just living in it, right?

I mean I’m barely doing that, I don’t even think I count as a grain of sand or a pixel on a phone screen on Planet Ina.

Psychic Damage

Thinking about you is bad enough, but how do I stop the conspiracy ideation?

Police officers, the church, stories of sexual carnage and violence.

I mean- there’s too much to lose now to just decide to “go crazy” again.

I’m working hard on building a future for myself, a foundation.

You know that.

I suppose I should tell you I earned my Associates Degree, and 'I’m going for my bachelors, not so certain about a Master’s, but honestly, you probably don’t care about any of that anyway.

Still, and I’m saying this for myself now, it’s a bad idea to buy a ticket to Norway.

I could be arrested for up to 6 months.

I have a job I’ve been holding down, I have a career goals I aspire to achieve.

I just can’t allow myself to risk that for some petty truths about a relationship that happened 15 years ago.

I’ve been with so many other women in that time, and none of it worked out but when you look at the inherent racism of the United States of America it makes more sense.

Still! I’ve done it before, I can do it again, I just don’t want to bother at the moment.

Look you don’t care about any of this, I’ll just end up in jail and you can sleep better at night knowing I’m behind bars for a while and then on a fucking plane back to Boston.

But I care, and like I want the best for you, I want the best for myself as well.

Empty Sex

These visions, these thoughts.

I feel a twinge of angry and jealousy, and it evaporates.

I’m slightly annoyed and then it vanishes.

I can’t even describe it as angst when I see these visions.

I can’t must up enough emotion to care.

Just empty sexual hallucinations.

It’s never you, it’s always “someone else” but your face is on them, a deep fake. A psychic fucking deep fake.

Over and over.

Right before I try and fall asleep.

I’m not even sad.

I can’t go back in time, teleport to your location and start a fight with the guy.

I never could.

I’m not clairvoyant, especially not on a messenger applications, millions of miles and computers away.

I can’t tell by the words on the screen whether or not you were lying.

I can’t, I couldn’t do anything, then and now.

A hollow realization.

Emptiness, but not the good “Zen” kind.