Today

thoughts seem to appear as if in a slide show, except I don't hold the clicker...

I woke up with clenched fists again, swinging at everything in sight.  This world, it seems to be more conducive to the insatiable appetite of superficiality.  Sometimes I think I'm drowning in....well - just stuff.  There's this boy who I whisper secrets to.  He's a skeleton now and lies on a yellowed institution mattress.  His bedroom wall used to be covered with posters of half-naked girls, but now they're covered in padding.  Decaying with the rest of them, narssiscistally insecure and choking down pills just for a cure.