fire

I don't enjoy anything anymore.

I eagerly await the day when they get what they want, so they'll leave me alone. You lose another battle. You sit somewhere, alone, and then you start walking [agian] again. You fight, essentially, days or months or even a year or two later. a.

I don't enjoy food, I don't enjoy being outside or walking, I don't enjoy sex, I odn't [don't] enjoy writing, although I do massive amounts of it, I don't enjoy the [comapny] [cam] company of others, I don't enjoy my memories, which have betrayed me.

I don't even enjoy fighting anymore, for a while the fuel was [angry .,] anger.

I left my motivation a few weeks ago, or maybe it was a few dasys ago.

Thsi was my trap. Him. always him.

I was your job.

I had to have been. It's the only thing that makes any sense. To me.

He gets up, just leaves, I black out. last time.

YOu can rationalized it all you want. Some jobs you love. Some jobs you ahate.

YOu pick up the pieces, there's more.

Dear FBI,

Was I a job or the focus of a hate campaign?

Lacey

Which is worse, the FBI replies in a nice, neat little letter.

Fire. EVeryone wants fire.