declarations

i regret everything i have written about whitney. it feels like a lot of forced and delusional beauty. i cant stand to even read the things i wrote about her because i was legitimately inspired and now i am not. at least not in that way.

i know that no one has a love for me right now that can ever touch what i imagined it was with whitney. and i cant shake the feeling that i wont be able to.

i had a dream where a scientist told me i was a paunchy loser who needed sex and his chubby lab assisstant agreed.

i literally have no sex drive.