anxiety : 1 | agitation : 1
today's special but unwanted guest: muscle pains and flu symptoms.
I admitted to myself today that for the past several days I've been obsessing about putting a bullet through my head again. I thought about it over and over several times, so I suppose I should be saying bullets, not a bullet.
My musing is as follows:
I take a shiny, metallic-ash gray pistol and hold it to my head.
I give a brave squeeze.
The round-point bullet make a neat hole in my forehead or temple.
An expression of peaceful bliss comes upon my face.
Black ink splotches roughly in the shape of ravens exit the other side of my head.
The scenery breaks up like cracks spreading across a breaking windshield, with the bullet hole as the epicenter
Repeat over.
I kinda see that going on a music video for an emo-song or a punk-pop one, with maybe the gun and the raven-shaped splotches in different colors.
Maybe I can make an animated gif.
It's not because I want to die - at least I don't think I do; life has actually been quite good these days - but because I think I'm a pathetic idiot who needs to get a life but deserves death.
