Fantastic Wounds.

This is all going to end soon, I think.

On way or another, it's all going to end, because I just can't deal with it anymore.

To the few who read, don't take this as a reason to worry about me more. I'm not going to kill myself. And even if I was planning on it, it wouldn't be in my style at all to post a message like this. So don't worry about that.


Black and white black and white black and white black and white.
It's all grey, though. And tints of red. On and on.

If only people could process these things. Maybe someone would understand. But I'm my own person. Makes it pretty difficult to understand my thought process, I suppose.

On and on.

There will come a time. And my god, whomever that is, will reign down fire, and power. Doing the waltz with your murderer.

The party hasn't started until I sober up.


Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls.