My bandwidth varies from non existent or offline to an intermittent gigabyte in pure rapid bursts, waves of thought varying in levels of pleasure, from no way Jose thoughts to evil kanevil. I’m certain I can harm myself with these thoughts, I’ve been shown that I can, and it can be obvious so obvious I am psychic yet can’t use it for good or for money. Otherwise what are the heights of evil I could go to? Oh, the blackmail, oh the mental torture, oh the heckling why bother. it’s easier to use my physical body, my voice, my crazy crazy intellect to make that 15.75 an hour using all my spiritual gifts at full force to try to generate kindness from the wicked me and the wicked you, composure when my counterparts turn against me and the energies get thick and the gods of karma are upon me, and all that responsibility is what this girl can do. Did anyone happen to observe what I’ve done wrong? Did those beady eyes turn a blind eye or an aware one on my funky colored shirt (was it wrong) or did my infected fucking hand touch the coffee spicket? How many times a month do I need to have my period and is it because I talk too much that my smile looks a little less like old soul Christian and more like a gay gay rock star? Peoples observations can be amazing but my disclosures often discredit the amazing things I can do. It’s always like damn you weren’t an awesome human, u used woke superpowers and that’s not fair. Hey superpowers aren’t drugs guys, they often are sheer will.