Hmmmn… 90 posts in this series. Wow. That’s a lot. Guess I’m not so “not Dysfunctional” after all, huh?
Ah, though. My body has been deadened by the narcotics again. Ah… good? I don’t know. Ahhhhhh… so… peaceful… but not… naturally so. But even so, it is peace. And that is to be treasured, I suppose. Peace. In my little corner of the world, in my tiny room, sequestered from reality, I do have peace. And that is something to cherish.
It’s… solitary, tonight, as opposed to lonely, up in here. Not too shabby.
Hmmmnn… so alone, I am. So isolated. It really is like my own little universe in here, and I mean that of course much more literally than anyone else would.
It’s cold in here, in spite of the heater running. I have the window open, tonight, to let me breathe in nature’s energies. I love doing that in the deep night, and always when it’s an usual temperature- too hot, or cold. The changes in the ambient environment give my skin curious sensations. Hot breezes from the heater intermix quite playfully with the chilly gasps of air from the outside nocturnus, and the result is a soothing blanket of spirit. It feels… unearthly. Beautiful, and unique.
It’s times like this I love to be alive. I just love thinking, contemplating through the night on days like this. It’s dark out there, so dark. Dark enough to lose myself, and everything else. It’s beautiful.
I have a glowing ocean of LEDs lighting my room up. It’s dissociative. The lights and their energies add spice to the mixture of airs. It’s all so soothing on my humbled nerves. And the feelings of my magic, and the powers of my subconscious mind, buoy my thoughts and soul to what is real, here, while subluxing my ego from it’s desires of too much, too soon. I feel free, in here. Free to roam, here, there, anywhere. Outside, I touch the dew on the grass. I run my fingers over it, to caress it, to feel and steal it’s essence, to add it to my collection of experiences and tangents upon this plane of existence. In here, I catalog what I know now, having done that, and created that happening, that impression of my own self upon the world and it’s history. And up there, I am guided, by me, and by everything I can be, and down there, by everything I once was, and can never be again.
I feel… myself, in here. I feel so powerful, so absolute, so everything, and beyond even that. And so small, like the pinpoint that I am in this vast, uncountable cosmos. And far beyond this, I feel God, or what I believe him to be, amused at my meager revelations. To this, I am an atom, one single element smaller beyond what we can ever know. But I am an amusing element, a fine curiosity for a grand deity. I am not like the other atoms, here. And that makes me worthy of a notice.
I just finished listening to a few of Cady’s songs, and I can hear her voice even now channeling her soul’s wishes from beyond the grave, from across the aether and through the oceans of walls that keep us apart, to most. Not to me, though. Never to me; I can see, and hear, and feel, and live, there. Beyond the void, they might call it. Across the seas of existence and the planes of dimensions that hold us- them- in place. But not to me, though. Never to me.
I can see her; feel her. She’s here, with me, tonight. And that is why I wonder if I can’t simply… bring her back. To be with me. I mean, why not?
But alas even I am bound by some rules. There are walls even I cannot climb. And that wish might just forever be one.
Ahhh… if only. I’m so close, though. SO CLOSE. And yet so very… not, lol. I’m still only a human, only a man, living in his parents’ house, hooked on drugs, depressed, lonely, broke, suicidal, unemployed. Some dumb, ditzy blonde who sleeps with everyone because he’s too afraid to not, because he’s scared that people will stop giving him the time of day if he ceases putting out to everybody who wants it from him. A slut, at best. Really, a whore. An airhead, when you put it all succinctly.
But, ah, what a life I’ve lived, though. Seen enough for a million lifetimes, maybe more.
I thought about suicide again, today. Fondled it, tasted it. Cady again talked me out of it. I wasn’t ready, not my time, my superior self said. My familiars thought so as well, again. Not ready, yet. Not now. I mean, I still need to fuck Olivia Holt, lol. And the rest of them, I guess. Gawd, being an airhead is much more difficult than they tell you it will be. But whatever, that is for some reason my lot, here. A ditz to the end. Ah, well. At least I don’t hurt for sex, lol.
Uhm… well… not sure what else to say. It’s past midnight, here. It’s late, but I’m not tired. Maybe that’s the drugs. Or the magic, or whatever.
Well… I guess I need to sleep with some people. I need them to talk about me tomorrow, you know? I can’t not have that. It wouldn’t be right. That’s what a slut does, you know. It’s like our “thing”. And double plus points if you happen to be blonde. Or at least, that’s what Hollywood told me.
Hmmnn… well… ohkay, then. I guess I’ll sign off, for now. Yeah. I mean… I don’t WANT to, but… I… need to. It’s… just the end of the day, I guess.
Yeah. Ohkay, then.
Good night, world.
Sleep tight.