LK-P, 19, Brighton. I'm a fucking wildcard.
Four weeks later and i’m still in hospital, moving to a psychiatric unit tomorrow. one of the two ladies i share a room with who both have dementia just shat herself for the millionth time today. the stench of type seven dihorrea (liquid) is fresh in the airless room and i’m contemplating ways to kill myself just so i won’t have to breathe in the same air anymore. oh death bring me your sweet release! going to watch ‘the fountain’ to distract myself from the shit that is my life right now (literally), aronofsky i trust you won’t let me down, not now.
