seconds for tuberculosis

there's nothing that scares me more than dying and leaving behind all my things, can't they just build me a pyramid to give my capitalist body eternal rest? it's not so much that i'm attached to them, as to being disgusted by the thought of somebody looking through them. i have always been a secretive person, maybe because i had my privacy transgressed constantly for so long. i don't know if harsh circumstances forge strong people, but they certainly give them irrational fears that transcend the grave.

so maybe a pyramid would help, don't you think ?

first posts are for suicidal dreams

last night i had a nightmare, it was terrifying because at first it seemed unreal, but then at some point i could read — or my brain thought it could read — something
and once i read that the only way of knowing if you are dreaming is to try to read something, because words melt into one another and you just can't. well, turns out you maybe can't, but you can make yourself believe that you can.

it was awful and i thought i was going to die, that although improbable this was really happening and i was really dying.

we always think we want to die, but wevnever think of the circumstances, do we?
and life is a wicked genie and you have to be specific if you don't want to end up doomed, spending the rest of your days in a limbo of everyday-life boredom and where death is no longer a possible exit, but the only one you can take.