Maybe this is my body crashing. Maybe it’s the mold. Maybe it’s all in my head.
There’s no way of telling what is real, but then again there never really has. I remember that the dreams I had the last two nights were related. They weren’t the same, but they were part of one big story. It’s a dark story. I had to kill in this story. It was to survive, but it happened. It was a hostile place. I didn’t like it, but in that world, that’s all there was. There were messages that the TV tried to tell, but they came through poorly and no one listened. There were things and people trying to kill each other. I was alone for the most part, from what I remember at least. It seemed to be permanently night.
Then in another dream, I was talking to someone who doesn’t seem to want to talk to me anymore. I felt cool because their outreach was ignored by me, just to get even. I wouldn’t actually do such a thing of course, but it’s nice to think that I have some ability to stand up for myself.
I seemed to be a hit this weekend anyway. Compliments and congratulations and I even got hit on a lot. I was out and about and exhausted myself and that’s just how it goes. Most of my stuff is still in boxes and I have oh so much to do. This crappy feeling isn’t helping much either. I was hoping that sleeping would just fix everything, but I need more I guess. I need something because I’m so needy that it’s almost disgusting but it’s really only natural and human. See the problem is, I don’t want to be those things. I don’t want to be normal or human and I should be doing everything in my power to prevent that from happening. Even though, the pursuit of such things may just cause them to happen anyway. In fact I may be less that human now. I very well could be because I feel very much like something that isn’t well.
Either way, I only have to fight for a few more days and then I can rest. I’ve been at this one place since August 8th. I left here once, to go to Manhattan for an evening, which was deceitfully nice. I guess in the long run, that trip has only cause me more trouble and in turn, trouble for others.
I’m sorry if I can’t make any one happy. I make these choices in hope that something good will come forth, but it never does and I know very well it won’t. Now, is that because the bizarre working of the universe creates such a thing, or is my own? Do I make choices that destroy myself? I do, I know I do and I’ve known for a long time now.
This all very small and will mean nothing someday. Or at least it won’t mean then what it means now. Everything will change. It’s only natural. I will grow old and grey and so will you. Our youth will fade and slowly but surely will be left with only our character and that may very well go to shit too. All that beauty that you have will become nothing. Someday I could wake up feeling this terrible, only it will be every day and every day I’ll have to come up with a good enough reason to get up and go on and keep on keeping on. It’s scary, but I assume by that point not much will scare me. I’ll be hardened by the course of my life. I may not have a heart then. I may not have a soul either. I have both of those now, but they could go away. Everything can go. You’re already gone… for now.
You could very well sneak back in whenever you’d like. I may try to put up a fight, but it will fail. I may not even have to. It may never happen again despite how much thinking I do about it.
I wish I felt better because there was so much that I was thinking about saying but now all I can do is whine about how I don’t feel good and how lonely I am. It’s stupid how I can feel so lonely when I’m surrounded by people most of the time. But we are all alone. We always have been and we always will be. All I’ve ever known is what’s in my head and can only guess at the others. I can become close and start to understand things about other people, but I will never know. They will never know me either. I can try to explain, but I know from trying that it’s no use. I can hardly come up with the words so how would I expect anyone to ever know? But I’m sure I’m easy to figure out for some people. I may not be as complex as I like to think I am.