Sunday, 26 June 2011

Fold your hands child, you walk like a peasant

I'm sorry I've not been around
My laptop is broken and I lost my phone

Things are...

I'm thinking about suicide a lot
But in this really fucked up romantic way
The idea of going to a lake and walking in with a pocket full of stones
Or drinking tea and cyandine
I'm not interested in overdosing or jumping off a bridge of slitting my wrists
It's like I'm stuck in a time loop
I don't think I belong to this time

I have no idea where my nightmares end
Where the edges of my body end
I feel like I live in a different dimension
Where time moves differently
Where millions and millions of ghosts move about in the empty air
There are insects under my skin
I try to burn and bleed them out
But they're still crawling
I've convinced myself that the flashbacks aren't flashbacks but some kind of hallucination
Therefore it doesn't matter because it's not real
I don't feel real
I feel like I don't really exist
I'm just in a film
Or a dream and I will wake up any minute and it will all be over
I feel so out of touch with everything
Things are too bright or dull
Too big or too small
It's like living in fucking Wonderland
And I have most definately lost my muchness

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