The night after seeing you.

I'm still awake at two in the morning of August 14th. My mind is racing and I've finally hit the tears. I grab a Sharpie and write in small letters on the wall: 1. I need to leave. I need to rupture the framework of this reality and break into a new one. Live a different life than is handed to you. It's getting too easy to be... nevermind. I lost the words in a drop of saltwater tainted with a wish.

"Silence is the loudest parting word you never say. Now a voiceless sympathy is all that remains."
~Ben Harper

In another spurt of this strange sob sessions, I write above it: 2. Do REAL good fro humanity. Get out while you still can.

On a different wall this time: 3. A pair of eyes are always staring in at me. I wish they were real.

4. I'd like to go crazy now. Maybe I should try my skills at resisting the words of therapists and mental institutions. Maybe that would do the trick. At least I would have something more to escape from then my own selfishness.

5. The only thing I'm fighting is myself and my accidental acceptance of the world in which I live. Silly me. Of all rebellions, I had to pick the hardest.

6. Sleep deprivation makes great fuel for thought. It maddens the spirit just enough.

7. When my lips are dry, I put on chapstick. How many people do that?

For some reason I found no number eight the next morning.

9. Whatever I do fresh from high school, I hope it is physically uncomfortable to prove I can be content anywhere.

10. This is the last one because I dropped the better Sharpie behind a shelf. I'm entertained to imagine reading these to find I have idea why I wrote such random, trite shit. : )

And I honestly don't. It really is a sad thing when I try to be dramatic, but this is how my night went, I suppose. You can check my walls to find the thoughts of a maddened heart staring back at you. I'm glad I saw you again, person. I was hoping I would.