Did someone cut off one of my arms when I was sleeping? Or maybe it was in one of my stumbling drunken/stoned hazes. Something has gone wrong inside me and I'm very casually ruining my entire life because of it. I've definitely lost something and I'm sure that if I don't find it soon I'll end up somewhere that I really won't like.

I'm sick.

I'm starting to get scared.

Bring it on. I've heard it all before. Tell me to go see someone, I dare you. Tell me to go see some doctor so that they can either shove anti-depressants etc. down my throat and/or tell me that I need to find a way to be motivated or something again. I won't take those pills. I know what I need to do but knowing and doing are two very different things, my friends. Very different indeed. So while my life is going down the drain, like the vomit I saw earlier today, you should probably keep your distance from me. You may get sucked in to my vortex of hell. Fear me.