you are the tiny piece of something that gets stuck in my eye everytime i think about pocket monsters and absurdism

log on.
log off.
shut down.
switch on.

all i have to do now is flip up a screen and wait for the entertainment to arrive before me. feeling like a queen feeling like a peasant feeling like a child dressed up in her mother's clothes;
they're too big, but i don't care, all i want is to be something i'm not right now, something bruised and ugly and covered in scars.
"maybe self destruction is the answer."
i never want to be the person i was before, i don't want to wake up and think 'oh shit, i've got to so much blank to finish before period blank.'
to be honest with you, i've been thinking about that strange little voice in the back of my mind that tells me to do bad things; it sounds like my power animal roaring for me to get into action.
but mine's not a penguin, mine's a beetle, and it's telling me to crawl,
crawl like the insignificant insect i know i am.
sometimes i find that the beetle has gone and been replaced by a lion.
but that's only when i'm with you.




shut down.
no.
switch on.