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April 16, 2010

Messed Up

You keep telling yourself there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. Everything makes sense. No it doesn't. Shiny happy people. You're the freak. No I'm not. Yes you are. No I'm not. Fine. I am.

So, here we are. You and me without the you, without the me. Damn it. Go away. I'm talking to you. No, to me. You don't want them inside your head. They cannot go in. Temporarily closed. Permanently insane. You should have known better. I don't live in a dream. But I want to.

This is mind-numbing. I say mind-blowing. Did it have to happen now? Yesterday. Could be tomorrow. Eventually is good enough too. It keeps coming around. And around, and around, around. In circles. Never-ending. A haze I never quite understood. Probably never will. Maybe I'm not even supposed to. Slow down. Please, slow down. I'm barely catching up.

Breathe. Run. No, breathe. I said run. I don't care. Take a deep breath. Take it. Give it back. This isn't happening. It shouldn't have to be this way. Don't give in. The beautiful slippery letdown overpowering the bitter sweet escape.

And yet, the shiny happy people are still smiling. Say cheese. What? Nothing. You're crazily messed up, didn't you know? No I'm not. Yes you are. No I'm not. Fine. I am. I am. Am what? What if I'm not? What if I am?

What? Nothing. Forget it.