on a shrouded mountain in Bolivia

he fucks up the takeoff execution and lands heavily on his knees further down the slope. the sound of his kneecaps hitting the ice makes a sickening, splitting sound and everyone looks away, grimaces in every other direction. 

a healing ritual, smoke and bones. a man with withered face and lantern jaws. 

Home 
A voice from within 
You're not alone

it just feels like an endless day, it's endless and I just want to fuck off and die. it comes over me at the most random of times. ordering cold coffee and the barista wants me to flirt back. her mouth is stained with orange juice. I want to tell her I'm good as dead. I manage to shake it off but it happens again, not even an hour later when I'm sitting in the stairwell, my nose running, feeling my heart pulse in my teeth and I know I need to talk to someone but there's so much risk assessment. I'm missing some sort of vital clotting mechanism normal people were born with to equip them to handle their emotions.

I wanted to text my friend "do you ever feel as good as dead?" but then I realized she's currently in the class I'm skipping. I realize that before I realize that you're not really supposed to say things like that without any foreplay.