Insomnia again

Voices are saying a lot.

Saying that I’m next to some girl in a cyan sweater and a white mini skirt that’s someone I don’t want to know about.

Repeating things

That you got fucked on a moped in the DR, put a helmet on your head and the helmet is yellow.

Edit:

The voices tell me you were never serious about our relationship, in any part of the world, but if that’s the case why did I even meet up with you? Why not just get trolled at south station? Why bother with New York at all?

It’s these conflicting themes that cause me the most stress, suffering.

Edit: voices say you never want to see me again

The helmet was a condom?

Great.

Edit: arse fukt on moped

If they didn’t turn you up you wouldn’t have gotten on the bus to Boston

Cool