Sometimes we just have those days where we think we're disillusioned.
Ugly ugly colors twist into putrid murky browns and vomit greens right before my eyes, swirling together in the appropriate cacophony .of the world. I want to tear out my eyes. I want it all to stop. They blast my retinas with sound, weighing on me like nothing
everything I see the ugliness breaking down into a hopeless feeling.
I dig into my teeth in a desperate attempt to get rid of the murky rotten C O L O R S pulling and screaming and scraping. The gunk pours over my lips and dribbles down my chin. It's in my head. It's in my head. It's in my head. It leaks from my tear ducts and eye sockets.
Now I see it.
I am rotten to my core.
It's not my eyes.
It's not the world.