(no subject)
My psychic energy has been on the fritz for the past two-three weeks. It's more than that, too. all of my perceptiveness has been increased on the ten-fold for some reason, and none I could have wanted or asked for, really.
My dreams, good and bad, have all just been vivid, detailed, realer than real nightmares. I'm not supposed to know anything, any of this.
None of this should be for me. But who the fuck am I to say no, either, right?
I don't want to talk to anyone about it. It's weird. I'm not even supposed to believe in this kind of thing.
I don't want to do anything anymore, either. It's official. I'd prefer to work 20 hours a day, and do nothing but work work work, to get my mind off of my mind, forget that what I'm doing I don't understand, and I hate. I hate this me, this me that wants to hide in a corner and turns mute the moment I make unavoidable eye contact with someone I know. But I just don't have anything to say. I feel like shit, is that what I'm supposed to say? I feel fucking fat, and ugly, and like my skin can't clear up, and I listen to pop radio and watch/bond with my t.v. family all day long, unless I'm at work, flexing my knees because everything hurts and somehow I'ma lways tired and my dreams harass me through my sleeping hours until I wake back up and my life feels like one of the awful nightmares i have, except that it's real.
now, if that hurricane strikes and hits the coast, everything else will just fall into its apocalyptic place in the world and i will try my best to dig my brain out through my eye sockets.
My dreams, good and bad, have all just been vivid, detailed, realer than real nightmares. I'm not supposed to know anything, any of this.
None of this should be for me. But who the fuck am I to say no, either, right?
I don't want to talk to anyone about it. It's weird. I'm not even supposed to believe in this kind of thing.
I don't want to do anything anymore, either. It's official. I'd prefer to work 20 hours a day, and do nothing but work work work, to get my mind off of my mind, forget that what I'm doing I don't understand, and I hate. I hate this me, this me that wants to hide in a corner and turns mute the moment I make unavoidable eye contact with someone I know. But I just don't have anything to say. I feel like shit, is that what I'm supposed to say? I feel fucking fat, and ugly, and like my skin can't clear up, and I listen to pop radio and watch/bond with my t.v. family all day long, unless I'm at work, flexing my knees because everything hurts and somehow I'ma lways tired and my dreams harass me through my sleeping hours until I wake back up and my life feels like one of the awful nightmares i have, except that it's real.
now, if that hurricane strikes and hits the coast, everything else will just fall into its apocalyptic place in the world and i will try my best to dig my brain out through my eye sockets.