westid

i have a dangerous and untreatable sleep disorder which no one knows about. when it’s someone’s job to make life more difficult / less enjoyable – information like that will be kept from you and only imparted using silly, unprovable wordplay at best

loads of times i’ve sat here planning an armed robbery, come in with a 410 shotgun and a duffel bag … sweep all these boxes of tablets and everything that’s in the cupboard and sort it all out later. what you will get depends on what kind of people come here, and at which point you pick your moment in their therapeutic cycle that counts as one unit the period of 28 days

when i started coming here they didn’t even have an intruder alarm or CCTV. being made to come here every single day isn’t always a pleasant experience, and there’s the risk of normal people getting a very clinical keyhole that they can look through that tells them about your life in a particular way that you never get the chance to offer your side on – presume for me that a man being judged by the medicine he needs to take is in any way obligated to answer for himself

every single robbery i planned grew more in modus operandum, with cheeky overcomplicated factors that someone who takes the piss so much he robs his own nominated pharmacy … ought to include so he becomes a living legend with a blood type of “schedule 2” …. worthy of the sensationalism put into the local newspapers – next to his almost guaranteed police mugshot, wouldn’t be the first time a celebrity such as myself hazard a front page special with my beautiful face gazing into the very soul of the reader

nothing is different about my visit today, save for one thing

i’ve never wondered how many boxes of tablets it would take for that duffel bag to crush one person, and felt the same useless inadequacy they are forced to give me if any of it gets spilled or left on a bus … a bona fide notorious local villain, able to live in one world and witness the same pain going on in another