Darcie Wilder's second book, Literally Show Me A Healthy Person, is a stylized, free-flowing collection of thoughts. In the excerpt below, the voice of @MTVNews waxes about Britney Spears, mortality, and relationships.

the skin on the tops of my hands are splitting apart. just like my parents did. and their parents before them

'stronger to hold ur head high in spite of drunktexts than to have never drunktexted at all' is the current lie im repeating to myself

someone roofied my ranch dressing

in the unauthorized biography of britney spears she says her advice is to lift 1 lb weights and always sing in elevators every time i left to skateboard in the schoolyard i would sing in the elevator i would sing britney spears really loud and once the door opened and there were so many people they heard everything so i never sang again

got another building newsletter. we're no longer allowed doormats ("tripping hazard"). i don’t mean to harp on this but yesterday a woman three flights up burned to death in her apartment. the building newsletter acknowledges this well-known actor for trying to save her, then compares her life to a dog’s.

they quote death of a salesman. "he's a human being, and a terrible thing is happening to him. so attention must be paid. he's not to be allowed to fall in his grave like an old dog." then qualifies, “just because she was never celebrated as a ‘celebrity’ doesn’t lessen her contributions.”

mom and dad had a skunk and dad said the skunk would curl up on his feet in his sleep and he'd wake up terrified the skunk was dead but it just looked dead when she was relaxed

been stuck in the mcdonalds ball pit longer than most my relationships

would marriage exist without the concept of death

the girl who was mad at me for hitting on her boyfriend is here. i can’t tell if people scream when they see me because they're excited to see me or because im already screaming.

reading up on monsters and murderers that target children like let err rip bitch im 25 now and no one wants 2 fuck

my life is life hollywood squares: where are the voices coming from. i can't see anyone. how do i get down from here.

whenever i think of those non-linear theories of time where everythings always happening at the same time i feel like fucking killing myself

there are some parts of my body that i care about more than others

a few weeks ago i thought i took penicillin but it was codeine and i posted “turnt” twelve times on the facebook event so my ex would see it

would you rather share a google doc or fuck without a condom

accidentally overbooked 'the help' (left my vanilla-scented glade plug-in on the highest level)

when i was eleven we went to grandma's in ohio and mom and dad adopted a skunk that lived in the second floor bathroom mom grew up in with the shower she was using when she was fifteen and washing her hair and her mom went in and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her out naked in front of her four brothers because she was taking too long and i was sitting on the floor with the skunk and

i keep thinking “i want to kill myself” but then: “no, that can’t be right” like, inaccurate

just want to let everyone know i haven’t had sex since the last time i had sex and you can get broken up with without ever having dated.

wheres are all my attractive and/or mentally ill friends and/or the subway

im trying to take a selfie. it's not working. can u trust that im hot? cool people have tried to make me cum

my ‘heart’ is doing the thing where it feels like a runny nose

he fucked me on ketamine when i was blacked out in the bathroom before the bar was open so drunk i forgot i didn't have an iud, let him cum inside me and bought plan b in the morning

does anyone want my demons, im so sick of them

drinking plain seltzer but it tastes like vodka soda

drinking ur cum but it tastes like

nevermind

real friends spin "she's fucking crazy" into "idg he must only like boring girls"

hope tonight ends with tears or cum

i got in the the elevator and she said:

"no husband, no boyfriend. you've got to remember, im from the generation: 58% of the men died in Vietnam. between that and the gays, not a lot of pickings.

remember the virgin birth? 2,000 years ago? we're due for another.

that woman Vivian died in the fire. burnt to a crisp. her entire body. gone. i dont know if she smoked but she was a hoarder. papers everywhere.

she was the little woman with the cane.

not today but yesterday.

you would've smelled it if you were here.

burns? all over your body? you dont recover from that.

life? after that? doesn't happen. carpe diem.

floss every day"

the elevator door closed.

two months later her dog was the dog in the most impressive dead dog memorial i've ever seen