I’m in that happy drunk stoner place so still don’t know if I like me or not.

I don’t think I have the ability to see an overview of myself like looking down on a finished jigsaw puzzle.

I can’t let them out. I can’t roll away the stone that covers the danger in the caves in the back.

They’ve had snippets more recently but no, fuck off. you’re not coming out, you didn’t define me, I made me who I am, not you you cunt.

I’m in charge of which of you comes out and which of you gets to fuck with me and none of you anymore but please stay quite under your rock, even your vibrations hurt.