Don't know what to do. Things are broken. Falling apart. Can't be fixed. Don't know how.
Can't sleep. Can't eat. Hurting. Tired. So tired.
Falling. Tumbling. Crumbling. Pieces. Battered. Tattered. Torn. Worn. Aching. Waking.
Self-inflicted madness beckons.
Pain confirms life.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Friday, March 02, 2007
Dream or Nightmare
Recently I had a rather disturbing dream.
I was standing somewhere in a room. There was neither dark nor light in the room - it was illuminated dimly, but there was enough light that I could see a bit. The room was rather large, or at least felt large.
Unlike most of my dreams, this took place in the first-person perspective. (Most of my dreams take place from a third-person perspective, almost like watching a television program, but in 3-D.) Which made the next part rather odd.
I had a knife in my hand. It was a very sharp knife. And rather long - the blade alone was about 4 inches in length. It was one of those pocket knifes you can flick open with one hand. The blade was already out.
I took this knife. I plunged it into my own chest. It was a very sharp knife. There was some pain, but it was a distant, hollow thing. It felt better than the numbness. It did not distract me from my task.
Grimly, I carved a great circle in my chest. I removed my heart and tossed it away. The wound healed over. There was no pain. The heart dissolved away into nothingness. Only the blood remained, staining my hands and the blade in them.
The numbness was all that was left.
I don't know how I feel about this dream, exactly. Part of it is terrible, and even terrifying. And yet, a part of me longs for that numbness, as everything seems to spin into confusion.
I was standing somewhere in a room. There was neither dark nor light in the room - it was illuminated dimly, but there was enough light that I could see a bit. The room was rather large, or at least felt large.
Unlike most of my dreams, this took place in the first-person perspective. (Most of my dreams take place from a third-person perspective, almost like watching a television program, but in 3-D.) Which made the next part rather odd.
I had a knife in my hand. It was a very sharp knife. And rather long - the blade alone was about 4 inches in length. It was one of those pocket knifes you can flick open with one hand. The blade was already out.
I took this knife. I plunged it into my own chest. It was a very sharp knife. There was some pain, but it was a distant, hollow thing. It felt better than the numbness. It did not distract me from my task.
Grimly, I carved a great circle in my chest. I removed my heart and tossed it away. The wound healed over. There was no pain. The heart dissolved away into nothingness. Only the blood remained, staining my hands and the blade in them.
The numbness was all that was left.
I don't know how I feel about this dream, exactly. Part of it is terrible, and even terrifying. And yet, a part of me longs for that numbness, as everything seems to spin into confusion.