...just...

...this.

This hell, this time when I know I am not touching the same reality everyone else lives in, when I don't dare say or do anything for fear that what seems rational and right tonight will, come morning, be the greatest possible wrong.

Kadin is online. Nick is online. Hell, Justin is online (and if you know who I mean, good for you). So far away, all of them... shadows, dancing on a screen that I can't convince myself is real. Everything's illusion tonight, without the comfort of contact, without any safety, any barrier.

I'm writing. Why am I writing? Why, when I know that the only certainty is myself, would I try to communicate with anyone? I haven't figured that out yet, I just know that at some point I talked myself into writing when the world goes astray and since I've yet to talk myself back out of it, I write. I type. I try to put into words what's eating at the back of my mind and clouding my vision.

Tell me, why is it that every light but the computer screen seems to flash electric heat, why this one alone is safe?

Why can't I make this stop?

Why can't I cope with this?

Why can't I just curl up and pretend the world doesn't exist... after all, I'm not sure it DOES. Something. Anything. There's got to be existance of some sort.

I... I'm not going to scream.

I'm not going to flip out.

Too much counting, too much time. Not enough of......... what?

I don't even know what's missing. I'm going offline. Gonna curl up. Quiet. Silent. Nothing exists.

Nothing exists.

I don't exist.