The Bloody Doors Off

What the fuck am I even doing here?

Graphic designer, playwright, occasional asshole

Me and God, we don’t get along, so now I say

I just had the most interesting conversation with myself.

I was witty. I made valid points.

I changed my own mind.

I’m in trouble.

Aren’t I.

Fuck that noise.

It’s a panic attack.

Harold is riding in on a horse.

I recognize it’s a panic attack.

That’s a good step.

I can deal with that.

Because it’ll pass.

Music.

I need music.