Chemical fried.
Date: Jun 15th, 2011 12:43:15 pm - Subscribe
Mood: Defeated.
Music: Neon Indian - Ephemeral Artery
There is an insect in my head.
I can feel his claws.
His scales.
His slime.
Every now and again, I can feel him squirming.
He is getting closer to the surface.
So I reach in, grasp his wings, and tug to no avail.
He escapes me every time.
He scratches at my Hippocampus.
He eats away at my Neocortex.
And he shits on my Amygdala.
I fucking hate myself.
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