Fig. 7. Cassiopeia, showing where a new star appeared in the year 1572. Flowers of the sky. 1879.
Source: archive.org
No one reads this shit so fuck it.
This time hurt more than any other. I know I have a soft heart and fragile soul but I think I might be done. I always find a way to fuck things up. I know I'm not, but I feel worthless. My fuckin chest hurts. I can't stop myself from caring but I can drink myself to where I don't remember and drugs are easy to find in this town. So fuck it. Falling back to ols ways.
And then I just kinda disappeared. It seemed near at the time but my mind was full of fear. So I fled. Not like a running in fear type flee but seeing the things that were said in fits of disalusion and dread bounding through my head so drowning them seemed real instead. But she was right. It's like I seek these things so unattainable to try and train myself or become more able to accept the fact I never really wanna try. The shits weak. I need to learn what I need to know. I need to walk into that mist.
I found a piece of my heart
On the end of a sleeve
I wasn't meanin to harm it
But it started to bleed
Leaving pieces of garments
Filled with semen and weed
The last part started
As I got up to leave
