The beginning of a week destined to be filled with drama...
I feel detached from my species. I feel like walking oblivion, and I fear that I may forget to breathe and may never wake if I sleep. I fear that I am not human, that I am just a ghost in a tortured body. I am consumed by my overwhelming emotions and I am incapable of sorting myself out enough to figure out what the hell is going on. I am lost, I feel like a small child cowering in the darkness so that no one can see me. And I feel like their are so many loving hands reaching out to me, like they want to save me or steal me or deceive me... and I dont trust them as I am possessed by absurd notions. The sincere hand I fear that I will drag in with me, and that when I emerge stronger having conquered my demons that my saving grace will lay dead in a pool of my memory, dead for having helped me. The thieving hand wants to take what it can from me while I am weak... exploit my strengths as vengeance for every confrontation and every victory. It is the smile of jealousy and the lust of emotional damage done in days passed and it seeks only to find a jaded justice in helping me. But the hand I am most revulsed by is the liar's claw. She wants to help me, to heal me, but she really wants only to gain my trust, to get inside and live where she does not belong. For if she saves me I am to be enslaved, the prisoner of guilt and grief and depression. I reached out to her shadow before and woke up six years later more broken and scarred with nothing but the lines of age to show for it.
So I sit here in my personal isolation and I revel in the madness that I have come to embrace. I am like a wretched insect in a coccoon of tragedy. It lies in wait to see what form I will take on when I emerge...
Agent.
I feel detached from my species. I feel like walking oblivion, and I fear that I may forget to breathe and may never wake if I sleep. I fear that I am not human, that I am just a ghost in a tortured body. I am consumed by my overwhelming emotions and I am incapable of sorting myself out enough to figure out what the hell is going on. I am lost, I feel like a small child cowering in the darkness so that no one can see me. And I feel like their are so many loving hands reaching out to me, like they want to save me or steal me or deceive me... and I dont trust them as I am possessed by absurd notions. The sincere hand I fear that I will drag in with me, and that when I emerge stronger having conquered my demons that my saving grace will lay dead in a pool of my memory, dead for having helped me. The thieving hand wants to take what it can from me while I am weak... exploit my strengths as vengeance for every confrontation and every victory. It is the smile of jealousy and the lust of emotional damage done in days passed and it seeks only to find a jaded justice in helping me. But the hand I am most revulsed by is the liar's claw. She wants to help me, to heal me, but she really wants only to gain my trust, to get inside and live where she does not belong. For if she saves me I am to be enslaved, the prisoner of guilt and grief and depression. I reached out to her shadow before and woke up six years later more broken and scarred with nothing but the lines of age to show for it.
So I sit here in my personal isolation and I revel in the madness that I have come to embrace. I am like a wretched insect in a coccoon of tragedy. It lies in wait to see what form I will take on when I emerge...
Agent.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
and don't know how to pull myself out.
And on your other note I just watched Blade 3
it was all right.
And I really like that new Foo Fighters song thats on the radio.
I've had Gizmo for about 9 years now the main reason was to flirt with girls