4:24 p.m. - 05/31/03
no, don't.
booh. I do not want to talk. I am uninteresting. my head says things that keep me from being happy, and it doesn't even adapt funny voices when it does so. it's hardly audible; it speaks below the surface and my expression changes, my day changes, my emotion changes anyway. and I hate it. stupid fucking unfair unavoidable depression. insomnia. finally falling asleep this morning to have nightmares that woke me up again and again and again. each time I would wake up falsely (dreaming that I had) and I'd be seizing, and my heart would be too warm in my chest, and pounding. I would twitch and try to tell the other person in the room I couldn't talk. and then I would wake up really, or fall back into a dream, over and over again, until I was certain I had some sort of seizure-heart disorder spiced with hallucinations. until I was looking at all the plates and balls and bruised silences in the air and trying to determine how I would fit fighting a seizure-heart-hallucination disease into my already overflowing life.
and I don't know what to do for myself. it's the sort of depression that thinks no matter what I do it won't help. oh, sure, I could bounce around aerobically, gain some endorphins, I'd just fall back into it a minute later, even less energy. I could eat better, get a little bit more clean, read something funny, call someone real.
or I could go back to sleep and hope there'd be no nightmares this time. or I could claim this day as one of those ones I don't feel particularly compelled to live. so wake me in the morning, when I need to study for my psych exam. wake me in the morning when it's possible whatever's wrong will have relocated...
I really want to believe that I'm not supposed to be like this anymore. not this often. not this fully. I like the real magic. I'm tired of the trick where I wake up and disappear.
chord
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