I had my hands on some little blue pills. Marked with a Z, one to make me tired and another to make me honest. Ladder the effect. Taken an hour apart.

Let's see what interests me. Something to read when I've already forgot.

Z label in z head now. Absorbency.

And she's fishing? In her Sunday dress. Push her in the mud. Pretend it really happened. It wasn't something I saw on tv.

The girl being pushed out the window was real. My laughter was too. Oops didn't mean to do that. Was one of those first signs. Inappropriate emotional reactions, yup label me ****ed and I can skip the next church retreat. Scientologists don't want me either. What's up with religions rejecting the crazy?

Remember the day I spent screaming and throwing things around the house? There was music! You all told me it was silent. I insisted. Maybe broke some things, hurt my throat screaming, ran to my room frustrated and slit my skin. That damn music was still playing but, nobody believed me.

My heater sounds like fires of hell building up in the walls and yet it is cold in here. Am I going back to hell?

Oh those blur pills, blurred blue z's on em, for sleepy time. I don't care if I wake up tomorrow and the demons are laughing at me. No, I don't care at all now.