Do I feel joy again ?

Freeze. I'm over it. Highlighter yellow fingertips, gnawed raw and rough around the edges; dragging over blue-lined migrained peepers. And this constant reaching is making me ache, these tired arms are grasping at only ideas and getting me, nowhere. "She had not known the weight, until she felt the freedom", but if I'm weighted now, can I ever be free. And I have a confession: all you hear is how I'm anchored,

weighed down to the depths of your balmy seas, but I'm terrified to jump ship. So tell me, is it worse now out there on your own? Do you breath heavy, knowing the consequences rest on you only, that you are fully in control? Or is your smile real, now that no matter what the consequence, you will never be as caged as before. (please don't grow up completely on me, by the way, I need you atleast to stay the same) I'm grasping at nothing, but living for something, and realistic or not, atleast I try, all warning looks be damned. 122 days.

stop. go.

26 shrapnel

You know what else I can't get rid of?

Clowns, they're popping up everywhere, the infestation has begun.

One more week and I can stop thinking. maybe.

Welcome home. please stay a while. 126 days.

Salutations

So uh, Hi. What? oh nothing. I just think I might be dying a little bit, or a whole lot, but whatever. There are messages in all the wrong webs. From flaming sinuses and burning dry eyes, kick in the hypochondria (paranoia), 'gunpowder, treason, and plot.' It just has to be this one point in time. And where the fuck am I? 'Wretched, taciturn, eight-legged beasties', -- eight legged incubi shuffling under cell shallows. "Hey honey, you've lost weight." More like I've lost appetite. Increasingly out of character, and mental capacity. But October's done already? Just wake me up the second week inJune, if I last that long. I'm drifting off first week of December. 'Sleeping Beauty', standardized tests be damned. :edit:

It's quite amazing how every Friday little pieces of me pop up in three panels. 131 days.