So, the new training is SO. FUCKING. BORING.

I like to think I’ve lived a life free of trauma, though not drama, though it often feels like a trauma lurking around the corner.

Something repressed, guiding my moods and thoughts subconsciously, ready to jump out and smash the dinner spread just as I’m about to eat.

It feels like I’m barely allowed to eat, and alternately, stuffed of the point of nausea and vomiting.

Fucking mental illness… it’s a real son of a bitch, and the sneakiest motherfucker you know.

Target: 400 words
Written: 234 words, novella: The Mungk

Read: Welcome To Night Vale, Joseph Fink/Jeffrey Cranor (did I spell that right?)
Comics: Tokyo Ghost 1-4 (FUCK.  YES.)
Music: Killer Kills All & KillYrIdols, Sonic Youth