I think we should put our brains in tin cans and bang on the walls whenever the echo from the last bang fades out, constantly rattling the cage

Just want my eyes to float right above the water, eternally still, perfectly halved by the horizontal line, a holy song of silence permeating the air, the rest of my body long since corroded, nothing but endless skies to stare out at with the sight I have left

Just put a bullet in my skull I guess

How does one fuck up a Cobain death? I've been imagining slipping, shooting a gun through my cheek all afternoon

My brain is all wires and solar panels and indescript rods dipping in chemical vats, my body is a rotted flesh automaton, there's nothing but dim metallic sounds ringing between my ears, electromagnetic radiation in the air makes my signals go haywire, I want nothing more than to feel the breath of life

I don't know why my family is surprised that I turned out to be such a self absorbed asshole considering I'm so poorly socialized. I do try, but I guess I don't try hard enough

I wish I had the balls to kill myself

I think, eventually, something has to happen, I think that, inexplicably, inertia must eventually become motion, and I lie here in wait, still and decaying

Maybe if I were a more finely tuned machine I'd have done better. Maybe I should have hierarchized things better. I got lost in a swamp of fading thoughts, petty desires, when all I needed was a little bit of clarity and impetus

Soon I will be steeped in the morass of tedium and despair once again. The clarity will fade, and so will any conclusions drawn from it. I'm in a constant struggle with my own lack of awareness, sharpness, maybe I should abuse stimulants, but I know I'll eventually burn out.