i really do think i think too much for my own good. bad trips and memories always manage to resurface. they forcefully grab me by the ankles and yank me down to a strapped seat where i can see, in plain view, the possible horrors that could spill on the beautiful canvas in front of my fearful eyes. it is then that i wish to retreat under my fragile shell. why is that my mind always plays these horrible games with me? surely the origin can be traced back to a haunting memory that lives and boils inside my skin.

stop it.

now, where's my sleeping pills?