You’re good at killing shit, right? I know you are, man.You’ve brushed up against my leg in the morning with wet blood on your nose and around your tiny mouth. The only reason I ask man, is because I’ve got this problem that I need your help with.
I’ve got ghosts.
I know. I’ve got these real ghosts that float around my head while I’m sleeping and I think they’ve tried to take me over. I mean, I think they’ve tried getting into my head and running amok.
I’m not sure why but they want to ruin me. Steal my thoughts and replace them with whatever garbage that they’re pedaling.
I’ve seen you kill some giant centipedes too, man. You can take these fuckers.
You think you could sleep over?
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