I feel that...
My insomnia is returning.
You know I remember The feeling. The slow hollow ache of the inability to sleep. This is in no way related to the lack thereof. It is based completely upon the inability to do.
If I do have it again, I will kill myself.
I'll give it three weeks, a pill trial, and error. Nothing else after that. I don't ever want to speak with them again. Maybe you will help me figure this one out? I am in a completely different world than I was the first time, and I cannot seem to figure out why now... They scare me these days. You remember them back from "xanga" with their faces that you could almost touch and their eyes that didn't reflect the light properly. The flashes of roaches in the corners of my eyes.
Please help me...
Please help me.
PLEASE, help me...
PLEASE DON'T WATCH THIS TO HAPPEN ME
I live a life semi-circled (there are not that many of you) by people that I think may be able to help me with this one. Last time all there was, was Emily. You know how we fixed it, how I didn't even notice until I was sleeping that I wasn't not sleeping anymore. Well, she's not a part of me that I can use for help now.
God dammit...
I can hope that you will not once again become the record of my troubles and only remain the record of my current outlooks and escapades. I never want to look back upon yet another diary of non-existent people, and conversations.
They are scary.
And you must understand, scary to me, is a big fucking deal.
Everything else is wonderful though.
-Dani
You know I remember The feeling. The slow hollow ache of the inability to sleep. This is in no way related to the lack thereof. It is based completely upon the inability to do.
If I do have it again, I will kill myself.
I'll give it three weeks, a pill trial, and error. Nothing else after that. I don't ever want to speak with them again. Maybe you will help me figure this one out? I am in a completely different world than I was the first time, and I cannot seem to figure out why now... They scare me these days. You remember them back from "xanga" with their faces that you could almost touch and their eyes that didn't reflect the light properly. The flashes of roaches in the corners of my eyes.
Please help me...
Please help me.
PLEASE, help me...
PLEASE DON'T WATCH THIS TO HAPPEN ME
I live a life semi-circled (there are not that many of you) by people that I think may be able to help me with this one. Last time all there was, was Emily. You know how we fixed it, how I didn't even notice until I was sleeping that I wasn't not sleeping anymore. Well, she's not a part of me that I can use for help now.
God dammit...
I can hope that you will not once again become the record of my troubles and only remain the record of my current outlooks and escapades. I never want to look back upon yet another diary of non-existent people, and conversations.
They are scary.
And you must understand, scary to me, is a big fucking deal.
Everything else is wonderful though.
-Dani