After smoking weed, I enjoy wildly harassing people—it genuinely entertains me.

I really enjoy obsessing over “utterly meaningless” topics.

Used to smoke before writing (I’ve changed this).

Still need weed to write (this one won’t change).

I tend to do things in extremes, and I enjoy going to extremes.

I enjoy sensory deprivation—it actually makes my thoughts clearer.

Recently, I’ve started enjoying hunger—learning and pain come together.

I don’t like bitterness or sourness.

I have a certain tendency toward self-destruction.

“Carelessness” is a coping mechanism.

What am I thinking, what am I thinking, what am I thinking.

Is this okay? Is it really okay to post stuff like this? Why are so many people reading it?

I feel a bit uncomfortable—like being naked, exposed under the sun.

But I’ve already decided to accept myself.

So let it be. Let me accept myself.