I think about dying but I don’t want to die, not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic, theres so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m wasting every second, even now i’m writing this when I should be out there, I should be living. I’m still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell i’m doing or how to get out.
when i was little i thought food poisoning meant that someone had literally poisoned your food and one time my sister got food poisoning from mccdonalds so i told everyone at school that the drive thru guy tried to kill my sister