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It gets more and more tough each time I have to tolerate. My toleration skills have gone up tens and thousands of notches and I’ve yet to succeed. There is no limitation to tolerance I guess. I’m pretty much screwed actually.

The aches, the pains, the unsettled debt~ bring me a first aid-er by which I mean an actual first aid-er. My mask is torn, slugs are slipping out, I can’t contain no more.

I’m not in grave danger but in grave pain. Why is the crane taller then my building, why are the marshmallows so soft. The tenderness in a chicken is gone. The essence can no longer be obtained, I am yet again screwed.

Can anyone recognize me even with my torn mask? It’s not that I care but this vital part of my life depends solely on my once-upon-a-time-lovely-mask. Can anyone help me, I guess not.

This is not some suicidal blog post nor am I mentally ill. I am just someone who has a higher level of situation awareness, some say the word is , paranoid.