ive made another year. ironically, i was born on the same day that old white guy said teh world was gonna end(i hope somebody sues him) when i was a bit younger, i tried my hand at this thing that i love doing. It failed miserably, now im trying the same thing all over again, but with more than i tried before. I want it to go perfect, but i cant help letting paranoia and uncertainty take control of my brain every time i check in. sometimes o go for hours without saying a word to anyone, and its really cool. but silence only seems to amplify the voices in my head. Ive been off my meds for about 3 months now, and im not sure how im doing. girls dont notice me like they used to, and i think its for the better. my brain and my penis dont live in the same apartment, hell, i dont even think they live in the same complex. id probably be crying, if i still had the ability, but instead i sit here, giving you invisible motherfuckers something to read. I would like to get all artsy again and go bomb, but all the abandoned buildings are now becoming hotels and shit. fuck. damn. i look in the mirror and all i see looking back at me is a young kid with old eyes. is this what being an adult is like? now i understand why some people never grow up, cant handle the stress of stress. no clever gif, no witty comment, just a kid talking to himself.