My only thought was to milk the time. Maybe if I did, I would be able to use it for good instead of the obvious evil. I proceeded with the thought until I was able to obtain a stool and the proper milking supplies. After the process was complete, I took my newly appointed watch to the store and the man hand-crafted me this leather band so I was able to attach it to my wrist and look anytime I wanted. Each hand was microscopically woven with the hairs of rodents and if you looked closely, there were tears from the raccoons on each individual strand. I started to realize that each day grew increasingly more difficult with each milked minute. Was it going to last, and was I going to be able to sleep again? These two questions were asked over and over and over on a loop in the biggest vein in my brain. Sometimes the vein hurt because it was being strained by ecstasy on a somewhat reoccurring basis.
Melatonin and sugar diet the next day. I was roasted before I even got out of bed. Torched. I used to keep a journal by my bed in case any good ideas came in a flash. They didn't that day. I kept thinking about real life. Something I wished I knew nothing about. Shame. I knew so much about what was really going on and how I was REALLY going to have to pay a person to go to court for me and how I was REALLY going to have to stop smoking but at least I wasn't REALLY dead inside. These thoughts kept me human. All those moments that I hated and the moments that I still dislike, they keep me sane actually. How can I have happy moments if you never have the sad ones to compare them to? It's not possible. Maybe in the world I really wanted, those things didn't exist. You only knew how to breathe. But I would probably trade every happy moment and just have the negatives if I was going to get nothing instead. Nothing would make me drowsy and weak.
Moving on, have you ever heard of phantom limb syndrome? It's this sensation people with amputated limbs and organs feel. It's like your old limbs have come back to visit for a while. Usually, they aren't welcome because all they do is nag you to be back for good but they know they really just won't work anymore. When I lost my mind, I think it tried to come back a few times. I couldn't reconnect the circuits or anything though so it gave up and floated back to Malibu. Then there was the month where all I did was drink rum and eat melons. Sometimes I ate the melons and then drank the rum but mostly I hated myself. Something must have come into view though, because I've felt euphoria from then until now. It helped when I started doing Velatium, or "Fovosaur". I ordered it from Turkey and they are pills that help me out. I'm happy wherever I go!
