Cold walk this morning, sipping on warm leaves. We've got to stop this soon; if we could only see Another way through this brutal regime. "Fucking (witch) bitch.” They’ll need to come get me.
Nervous, turning in yet another night. Stay stressing, keep em guessing, baby: fight or flight? We're floating down here; is it toward the light? Or are those clown teeth? We’ll see who takes a bite.