My psychiatrist has a mole on his face, and it moves when he talks. It sometimes turns into a puppet situation where I think he’s being controlled by the mole, but I am fully aware that the mole has nothing to do with how rude he is. I have trouble moving on from things. It’s the same reason why I am stuck with a dead end job, and a horrible accountant.

I can’t drink redbull anymore because I am on medication. My airconditioner stopped working, and I didn’t respond to the only job offer that I got in years, and I’m drinking a redbull as I am writing this. Before you call me a whambulance, think about this for a second…never mind I got nothing.


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