Flip

Flop.

I think that around half the things that I say are complete bullshit. The only things that I'm sure that I feel are negative.

So what exactly is compelling me to continue?

Is it like how things taste better when you're starving?

Is it just pure masochism?

Or is it just a drug that can't be swallowed, insufflated, smoked, or injected?

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A conversation between myself and Zachary three days ago:

Z: "I want to ask you....are you passionate about anything anymore?"

S: ".....no, not really."

Z: "It's just that I've been watching this happen...and I wanted to ask, to see how it was."

S: "Well, it's not good."