It’s funny. I always said I’d be gone by 40, but I just assumed it would be because I would do it. But now after finding out I’ve probably had a mini stroke at 36 I’m thinking nature might take care of it for me without having to lift a finger. It’s strange to think about. My emotions are kind of everywhere right now and thoughts of my own mortality have ramped up a couple of notches, when they were already pretty ramped to begin with. Oddly it feels like my BPD has been shocked into submission for now. I can almost see the monster scratching its chin in bewilderment at the current events. It’s just not a normal situation to be in, and the little fucker is completely out of its comfort zone.

Listening to Sunshine by Matisyahu


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