I dream of a place where they won’t see me as mad but as gifted.
Shut up, schizos are called schizos everywhere, schizo!
Is that what you think I am? Jesus Christ, you can’t even tell which disorder I have! I have bipolar! There’s a difference.
Does it make a difference? You cannot function, you write all day, you hole yourself up in your room, you think that what you write, that stupid nonsense you write is poetry. It isn’t. Fuck you.
I thought you were my friend.
Fuck you, I’ve been hearing this same lame ass shit story of your mental illness for the past 4 years and I am fucking tired of it. Fuck you. You hear what I am saying, you weak brained fuck? Fuck you!
Your words don’t hurt me. I’ve known you as a friend for far too long to let these petty things affect me. What’s your deal?
You think everyone’s gotta have a deal? I have no deal. I’m normal, I am a failure, but hey, at least I am normal. Unlike you, succeeding at what you’re doing and being demented by your own wondrous mind!
Oh now you think my mind is wondrous?
Fuck you and the crazy ass horse you’re riding man. I’ve had enough of you.
You’re being cruel.
Yeah! And you’re being retarded.
Make up your mind, am I retarded, schizo or bipolar?
I don’t need to make up my mind. You need to. Get a hold of yourself.
If only it were that simple.