The prompts are slowing down, or maybe not as efficient. I don’t mind answering them, but blogging from my mind is great as well.

I realized something today. Of If I ever stopped what I was doing, I would shrink and probably become digestible. While some marvel at all I do, stopping at any point in time would seal my fate.

Posting in Snapchat, I look back and notice another ad for the outfit I’m wearing. I’m flattered, they’re selling my type of poison to millions. Is it that want to be a псих, I am marked. It is what I am.

Or are they selling my poison for those who are already far gone?

It’s hard to say. In April of 2025, I’m getting псих tattooed on my neck.

I am being myself, the general opinion is that I’m cool. I’m not trying to be, I’m happy with how I am. The world should be as comfortable as I am. The comfort I sought, I finally have.

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