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Previous - this entry written on October 20, 2003 at 6:44 pm - Next This is what I have to fight off. This sense that it only gets worse, that there's always this pit, waiting, hoping, hungry. We're not sure WHO should be doing this, so I'm writing because hey, I'm at least close to a melding and... oh gods, where are all these memories COMING from? I'm falling, I'm tumbling, I'm screaming and crying and begging and pleading and cursing and ordering and breathing, so barely breathing, curled at the foot of her bed. It... gods, please, SOMEONE, turn it all off, please? This is what I'm afraid of. There's nothing I can think of, nothing that hurts enough or screams enough or... or anything, really. I know what I need. Has it ever been forbidden? Have I ever been foolish enough to give THAT promise, one I can't keep and don't want to keep and oh, but it's all so sweet here. Perfect silence save for music that drowns me... revives me... again and again and again. This is why I hide behind drugs so often. There's no other way to dull the aching and GODS why won't it stop? Why can't I turn it off, send it away, block it out? Fighting and struggling and nothing works, it's still here, all of it, good and bad memories clouding everything I see. Dizzy. The universe is a trap that I have fallen into and there is no way out, not from here, not from now. I don't want out, I KNOW I don't want out, but... ...this is what I dream of too. This is the depth that I can be taken to, or close to it. It's not quite far enough here for me to sink into it, not deep enough that I can come up baptized, washed clean. Post. Dream. It all goes away eventually. I can make it through this.
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