i'm dying in fifteen years or less. none of you are invited to my funeral. i'm going to die a poor lonely soul. keeping in mind i work third shift i will probably be able to slip out of this world in 2021 without being noticed too much. that's good, that keep me sleeping good. i dont want anyone to care, i dont want anyone to rescue me. i want to die alone, making the poor mother fucking choices i've made since the day i was born. fuck a bad seed, i'm a bad root. i'm deep like the oceans and they have just ran dry. one big fucking hole i find myself in. that's okay tho, because dying alone wont warrant irritation from anyone else. i knew this would happen, i knew it would. i fucking knew it before i ever laid eyes on you. i felt it in your text, i felt it in your posts, and i sure the fuck feel it in my heart. but that doesn't matter. maybe i can make that go bad in these last 15 (or less) years on this planet. or maybe the good lord above can send me an angelic automobile accident or something worse. put me in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. take one of my arms. take one of my legs. take a fuckng eye, fuck take both the world is so fucking ugly. its going to be one of those quiet weeks again. not to much to attribute today tho, i'll be working tonight. i can feel that like i can feel what i've just felt resonate at the surface. on the seventh day god made private entries.