Friday, 18 March 2016

I don’t want a boyfriend I want a bandage

Love is the sickest sort of insanity and I've had them all, Frank Sinatra style. Crying in the rain in a cardigan over a fb message that has not even ticked read yet. It is August why is it raining England is upside down since the economy got put down, unexpected, a favourite pet that met a grisly end, they never saw it coming it was sick so they bought it special cat food but they thought she'd live forever then one day the mum comes home the daughter is covered in blood the kitchen is too she was still warm when they buried her it happened so quickly they didn't feel like they had a chance to say goodbye (but love is a kind of immortality even if it's life expectancy is misery memoir short)

Psychosis is a parody of something and love is a parody of that parody (this is why others peoples crushes are so boring so stupid) and writing about another step removed still. "Even a little cough a little love". The anti vaccers might think an autistic is not capable of love but I am capable of a lot of thing, u have no idea how much or how powerful and that scares me. They should be scared. 

"And there's a chance that things could get weird yeah it's a possibility"

"All I ever wanted was to be your spine (spy)"

The morning after I say the angle is that I like him and it hasn't tick seen so I write this in my I phone drafts which save into dh drafts as my borders of private and profession have always been blurry. Crushing is an art project you work really hard on yet inevitably flunk all that effort yet a bad grade

Love is a single sitting theatre: watching u watching me


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