i want out. i don't want to drown here. i want out.

i'm plagued with thoughts of our demise.

why don't you go eat worms?

get lost.

i have satan but satan doesn't have me.

/ oh well.

sneak quietly, children!

(hide.)

be it all and end it all.

waist your days getting fat.

it's shit and makes you suck at drawing.
wow.

sorry to put up such a soppy journal last time, i was sort of, not myself, as it were. anti-psychotics really make me numb and boring. i had a constant panic attack for just under two weeks from it too, which i should have gone to the hospital for but decided to just try stick it out. panic panic panic. boring boring boring.

still very fidgety, but at least i can consentrate now.

wig out,
philip.

philip is too nervous to draw anymore. my illness have given me constant shakey-shakes and a-never-ending-ungodly-restlessness, and i'm usually pumped up on some-sort-of-anti psychotic-sleeping pills to pass the days. still have hypergraphia, but not enough concentration to write anything down. this is what going mad is like, and it's not what it's cracked up to be.

pray for me, but please, pray with care.

pillz, pillz, the musical fruit.
the more you eat, the more you toot.
the more you toot, the better you feel.
so let's eat pillz with every meal!

i'm working on some designs, who would be mildly interested in philip-shirts? i should be selling them soon.

see if you can keep up!

(the yard)

what first doesn't kill you.
will hurt like a cunt in the morning.

i have lost 12 kg in the last two weeks.