jtr-2

[jtr-2]

I had the dream again a few days ago. This time was different. I won't explain it all but the monoliths and the floor sounded the same. They felt the same. But when that knowledge clicked it didn't make sound or sight or sense or smell or taste. It made something else. Something that solved that not knowing instantly. The thing in the distance. I wanted to go to it, to get answers. I didn't in the dream, I stopped going to it. It wanted me not to, so I stayed, content with knowledge.

Some days, I feel null. Devoid. Without. Basic things linger but only the most pressing matters truly stand through. All I can think of is how... not I feel. How devoid and empty and wrong and insufficient I am and the things I do are. All I can think of is that place. The monoliths, the feel of the cool, damp air on my skin. The nothing above me and the thing I wanted to find. The way all of the pieces just clicked together. The way I knew. I knew. It's just so empty without it. I want it back. I want to go back. It's already bleeding, I can... whatever that sixth thing was. Only sometimes. I did yesterday. It was there, the monoliths and the... thing. I didn't see it. It wasn't there, mostly due to it not being real. But I felt it. It wasn't a feeling, it just... was. I want to go to the thing. To embrace the air. The floor. The monoliths that rise so high up it pierces the nothing. I can't sleep forever, I doubt I'll get there by constantly sleeping. But there has to be a gateway to it. A way to get there or even just... whatever that sixth thing is there. I want to find it so badly it hurts. My head hurts. If I didn't have this piece missing I would hurt as much

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[jtr-2]

I've been on a roll, but I'm going way too fast

Clear the road - I'm looking for a place to crash and burn

Oh, tell me do I deserve what's coming?

I've been on the ropes, funny that I feel so strong

Bloody Nose, never thought it'd take this long to learn

Oh, tell me do I deserve what's coming?

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Who am I? What am I? Do I deserve this? I feel as though I do. Who knows? It's not like someone decides these things. If there is, his mother is a whore and he's probably the accident she never wanted. Or he was aborted and won his Gulag. But I doubt his existence more than I doubt my sanity. I want to kill myself. Eh, too much effort. I'd have to think things through more. See, when I die it's going to be with an insanely flashy and extravagant way. Like strapping myself to a nuke and being launched at the White House, or canceling Twitter and eaten by ravens for it. That sounds kind of hot, actually. I'd be happy to get torn apart like that. Very good way to die. 8/10.

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I'm not happy.

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I have decided that my psychiatrists, whom of which went to school for nearly(or over) a decade, are completely incompetent. Fucking retarded in every sense of the word. Mentally slow. I'd call them autistic but not only is that not really an insult people with autism would have a higher comprehension curve. Even the children. A person in a fucking COMA could comprehend things better. Fuck.

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I feel sick.

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I feel so tired. My shoulders are heavy when I stand, my chest when I lie down and my spine when I sit. Not like they hurt. It's just... heavy. Like I'm wearing a lead vest, only heavier. I'm slow, too. Like, physically slow. Mentally I'm running tracks around myself, having and finishing conversations with people who aren't here. It's just... exhausting. I don't think the meds helped as much as they've harmed, I guess. I hate sleep. But it seems like I'll have to. My eyelids are the heaviest so far. I'm so tired. I don't want to sleep.

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So he's dead. Confirmed as a dude. He got to the vet though. I think it's cuz I gave him chicken on the way there though. I named him Einz.

Just saw a cat absolutely dominate another cat. Like, scratched the poor bastard up and tore chunks out of him. Maybe her, haven't checked yet. While I didn't get there in time to nab the culprit I now have the victim and I'm gonna bring it to the vet. Bitch is bleeding like the time I got my leg torn up by a cat. Shit hurt.

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Just saw a cat absolutely dominate another cat. Like, scratched the poor bastard up and tore chunks out of him. Maybe her, haven't checked yet. While I didn't get there in time to nab the culprit I now have the victim and I'm gonna bring it to the vet. Bitch is bleeding like the time I got my leg torn up by a cat. Shit hurt.

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I might be super fucked up. Like, REALLY fucked up. I keep blinking and being somewhere else, people act like they know me and I keep finding things in my home that I'd never have. I have music on my Spotify liked that I've never even heard before, I have different facepaints in my bathroom mirror and it's not just small things like that. The only recollection of my most recent cuts is the sting when I got in the shower. It's where I always cut, but deeper than usual. I cut to remind myself I'm alive, not for suicidal reasons. A few weeks ago, I never would have cut. I'm not sure what is happening to me, but I don't think I like it. The most significant incident was blinking and opening my eyes eight hours later in a library reading a book on writing in Russian. Why Russian? It was all gibberish anyways. But that's not the problem, the problem is that as I was leaving some goth chick licked her lips at me. Who the fuck does that?! I checked my phone and had two new numbers, one was hers for "round two" and the other was some guy who said he worked at the library. Bullshit. I've been to the library before, not a single person sounds like you. As for the "round two" bullshit... I'm not a sexually active person. It's not worth my time, because although it feels good it reminds me that the people I touch are in fact people. I hate people almost as much as I hate myself. I ate half of the lemon-lime meringue pie I made, which is very unlike me. I have plenty more than enough raw meats in my freezer, which is something I've been telling myself to do for a WHILE now.

Look. These aren't anything crazy compared to what I do in a daily basis. It's just alarming that they've happened and I don't remember them. They are pretty far from things I'd do. Maybe not the furthest but still far off from the norm.

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Fuck yeah! I made a whole fuckin rant and posted it before going to make the lemon-lime meringue pie but Tumblr bugged out and it's all gone. That's what I'm talkin' about, that's the good shit I need on a daily basis.

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I don't think I'd die if I inhaled Anthrax or Mustard Gas at this point. I've ingested and inhaled so many things that just... shouldn't be inhaled or ingested that I may be nearly invulnerable in those aspects. That would be cool. Anyways, I'm gonna huff kerosene and gasoline to see which one tastes better

[jtr-2]

Okay, I'm a little more sane today. I don't have Caramelldansen by The Caramella Girls stuck in my head anymore, it's been replaced with a crippling depression and anxiety. So... I'm more normal now than I was before. I guess.

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HOLY FUCKING CHRIST I'D RATHER HAVE MY FUCKING NAILS RIPPED OUT HOLY FUCKING FUCK I'M GONNA FUCKIN LOSE IT

[jtr-2]

I'll tell you how when you tell me your last name, Obama.

So then you won't talk.

Guess not, huh?