Dead fingers are typing this. My zombie brain is trudging through the drugged muck attempting to appear alive and human. But the decay is too obvious.
Bits of flesh fly off as I drop things repeatedly. My speech is slurred; all day is a struggle to articulate. Blarrrrghhhh brains. My brain is zapped.
The zombie pill has me dead all day. It almost makes me miss the physical pain of the Pokemon pill. Anything to feel alive again.
I’m stuck in bed stuck in tears stuck in misery. I’m stuck in my thoughts stuck with this prescription stuck in hell.
“You’re exhibiting a cluster of symptoms known as bipolar disorder.”
Ok zombie pill I’ll take the symptoms over the side effects. Please kill me or kill the death.