I think I've seen the real in everyone and sometimes that makes me sick. Is ignorance bliss? Is bliss even really bliss? Are we all just existing in this pool of unreality, trying to ignore what isn't even real? "Reality is when you stop believing in it and it's still there." But how does one just stop believing?
It takes years to build a triple story hotel building and one might think it's simple to just tear it all down. But in lies the rubble and the mess and the brick and the dust will never settle, not really, not ever. Blood will remain forever in the pavement cracks, drying and becoming like rust.

I have to take it a day at a time but the days are so long.

I never know what time is anymore.

Gosh.
Am I just going to dwell in this forever?
Probably.

--Andria.

And damn I need to stop caring so much about how I am or what I am or what anyone else believes I am I am nothing so far I need to become something at all I need to become something that I like and something that is nice enough for other people to like please that's all I want.

--Andria.

It's becoming a strange tradition that I wake up hungover. I drink too much and I know that but I don't care. I don't care because if it affects anyone I don't care. They are the people who only care when they want to because they want to seem "emotionally attached".
I need to stop tattooing myself. I think the ink is making me sick.
I want to peel my skin off. That's what I'm doing I suppose. I can't stop carving meaningless words into my skin. My body is so scarred.
Will that last forever? Will I ever be clean again?
My head hurts. I don't know where I am. I'm swimming.

--Andria.