Yeah. Still have to pee.
I feel like going mad. But in the way I used to be. The pleasantly unpleasant emotional wreck who successfully made plenty of people uncomfortable.
Why is it the people that you regret the most who always find themselves popping in and out of your life when the people who you miss the most are almost always nowhere to be found?
I did this thing. I'd talk to myself, but I'd write it down (Writing things down always makes me feel better). But I didn't want anyone to know what I might write. (I tend to scribble thoughts on scraps of paper intending to take them with me, but alas distraction would make it not so. People find them. It makes me uncomfortable.) So I'd write in a little code. I would only write the first letter of every word. Most always, when looking back on said scribbles even I can't decipher what it might have said. I like that.
A secret to be kept from myself.
I like that.