I feel like there is a hole where my heart was. My mind is humming about how I need to imagine me future. Honestly, I want to walk away. i don't know why the streets call me sometimes, they do. they are, now. i know where it heads, take me from the view of all the people who have love for me, then the voices have their real fun. i want to be destroyed. i want to enter the singularity, i'll be recycled, so, so what. As usual, I don't care enough. i'll just sit till work, then I'll think about something else, eventually. i used to put trees in a wood chipper. i want to be processed through a wood chipper, today, now, anyway. my blood and guts and crushed bones and mangled brains would be a site that would give pleasure to some, anyway. at least i could feel needed while i got crushed and mangled, before i ended.

sorry, just needed to voice this.

I'm alright. thanks.