it pours.
Too often do I find myself routinely inadequate in the things that I need to be
superhuman.
The damp sleeve pressed against my face is a reminder
that existence is to closely correlated to life.
Cognition tends to not serve it's purpose
and my heart hurts for the 11 year old girl who lays alone.
She doesn't yet know the value of catharsis
just the value of the potent quality of pills that are supposed to help.
Why
can't I be superhuman.
-
I'm back
but I don't necessarily want to be.
I'm going through withdrawals
