I think I may have eaten bad sushi once or twice. I get sushi from the grocery store sometimes. I wonder how easy it would be for warms to get in the imitation crab meat and lay some eggs. I might have worms. If I think about it hard enough I can feel them in my hands and in my brain. They are just doing whatever it is they like to do, burrowing or laying more eggs. Unfortunately I don’t think there’s is enough room for all us. My muscles hurt and my brain is going crazy. Thinking and analyzing sporadically until all I can see are my biggest fears and monsters as I try and sleep. I wonder if it were possible that the worms were trying to communicate to me. We could hold council meetings on what would be the best use of my organs. I could say will my appendix doesn’t do much you could live there, just be careful not to get digested. Or I could ask them to move somewhere else in my brain, give me a false since of confidence or some shit. That would be nice. It might be nice to host some parasites if I could talk to them. I’d always have a friend and they may even help me when I feel sick. You know like that one episode of Futurama. It seemed nice.
Some of my favorite moments in movies.
I just have to write. Sometimes I just have to sit down and spill out whats bubbling behind my eyes. Because if I dont it will fade and no one will ever see what I see. And sometimes I think well what does it matter that I write thoughts down or ideas or feelings. I mean shouldn’t the only things that should be read be written by talented writers and people famous for their intelligence. Who’s going to read what I write anyway? Whats so interesting about me that I should write down thoughts and feelings and put it on the internet so that people can get a glimpse at what Im always looking at.
I think it gets to the point though where I get so locked up in me that I just stop talking about anything. And then I get bored with my conversations and I lose confidence in my words the more I dont use them.
Sometimes I think Im a late bloomer. I think that my time hasnt come yet and thats why Im bored or why I dont have a girlfriend or thats why Im not making a movie or even writing as much as I should. Like one day I’m going to wake up and something amazing is going to happen and then Ill just be this person that everyone who ever left or didnt really believe in me or think highly of me will just wish that things had gone differently between us. Suddenly whatever I write will be published and thousands of people will want to read it.
The truth is thats never going to happen. And nothing will ever happen if I dont wake up and start doing things. Even if that means writing some shitty words down and posting it where people can read it.
