Pocket Journal.

[Threemadbroski]

This was a mistake. All of this was a mistake. Why I ask myself why? First it was hunger. Then it was because I was intelligent to some degree.
But I was not. I was the fool. The idiot. Now I suffer due to my choices. All I do is suffer. Violent invasive and impulsive can describe who I've truly become.
All while I put on a facade while I bide my time until I can indulge and appease this invader who is just me in DENIAL.

Yet I've already payed the price for the power I wanted. The hole in my mind instead of my wallet is felt on the daily. I idle and bide. Idle and bide.

I'm so sick of it. But the moment I no longer continue to idle and bide. Is the moment I walk on a path of twisted freedom. One that will push me away from the bonds i have.

I knew that was one of the risks. Im fine with it. I'd like to indulge in that sort of chaos anyways. But until then. Idle and bide.

Idle.

Bide.

Idle.

Bide.

Then I rejoice when the day comes I can be considered a threat. When I fill that hole in my mind with a reality I prefer to speak about. I prefer to exist in.

The rest of the pages are torn to shreds and jury rigged back into the book. Although they are not in a state where they can be read.