And my sister willing asked me if I wanted to go out with her.
Last night, my cat spread his arms and legs around my head and groomed and petted me.
The universe knows I'm losing patience.
I should be in the ward right now, but I don't want to deal with the damn angels. I'm not in the headspace where I want to hear someone smart off or say some horrid comment to me because I might actually assault them, which would get me locked up for a long time. Prison sounds nice, but I'd miss my cats. Anything is better than this god-forsaken place. It's like, what did I do now? I know, money. This happens in India as well. That's why the priests put a doll covered in blood outside of our door, and they feed us broken food.
But I appreciate the universe caring.
I guess the 'angels' are where they belong anyway: on the psych ward.
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