Weather Report

Observing my mind falling apart and consciously waiting to disintegrate feels somewhat calming.

It’s like watching blood drip down while getting weaker and weaker and weaker.

The underlying panic is hidden in plain sight, facilitating the self-destruction with constant indifference. It could be shame. I don’t know.

But draining this world of its meaning feels somewhat calming and I’m getting weaker and weaker and weaker.