puzzle

I don't cry much these days. I have admitted defeat and am now slowly floating along, blocking it all out again.

I worry I do not understand things. I worry that I have gone mad and that my mind is working backwards. I have a psychologist who doesn't let me say anything but instead talks about himself. I wonder who these sessions are for.

I dream that my left side is on fire. Apparently this is a good thing.

I might have an allergy, or irritable bowel syndrome. Some days are good, and some days are bad.

I am undeterminable, I am luck of the draw.

I, I, I.