I could be typing this at home, at my desk in the corner. I do that often. Not tonight though. I feel more compelled to to do this here because I'm actually surrounded by people, people i care about. So whatever, now i type.

This is probably going to be incoherent, mostly. Thats because as I type, there is a television on. The pictures flash, and sound comes out of the computer, and as that happens my mind can not discern the difference between that and these keys. I know what I want to say, and as I go to push the corresponding keys in front of me the idea is lost. Its gone now. Gone. I can get it out, I can get some mangled remnant out but not with the eloquence I once could.

Talking is just as impossible at times. I remember I time that has not long passed where words could speed out of my mouth, crafted just as I wanted them. The synergy of tong and mind was perfect. Now the place from which my words are formed suffers a fate similar to the fingers that that type now. The middle of a sentence can be it's own little hell, a hell where as I'm speaking I've forgotten what I'm saying, and what I intend to say. Just as quickly as I've stumbled i remember again what i meant to have said.

It's a constant fog. Concentration comes and goes, and I cherish it when it is near. But no matter how close it is, my affectation in speech is flat. I ca say what i want to say is plane, and simple terms, and I can type for hours, paragraph after paragraph. But the edge of creativity, that part that makes blocs of text tolerable, that Is lost. It's gone. Where once there lived an appreciation and awe of the world around me and an ability to convey that in text, there is now nothing. A void of thought.

My head is under water. your voices enter, muffled and spread out. The things I see are fogged to near obscurity. And as I lay in bed at night, when all is quiet, I can hear it. I can hear what I can only describe as a chaos of thought, of neurons firing in succession, then randomly, quickly, rapidly. This sounds like a hiss, a hiss that at times becomes a low pitched ringing. As I lay in bed the silence is drowned out by this. And yet I sleep. I sleep but do not dream...

I do not dream. Not in the literal sense, or the figurative. My future is a mystery to me, one I am apathetic about. I have no lace to get two and i naturally don't care that I have no way to get there. Somehow, the thought of rotting here is no less appealing than anything else I could be doing.

Day to day life is a struggle. A struggle to stay on top of these chemically induced defects in my mind. Articulating my ideas is a toss of the dice. To talk to people, whether friend or acquaintance is difficult. My ability to attend to such interaction is just further stunted. I never know what to say or what to do. So I say or do nothing. And my nothing I mean nothing of substance. Just the same lines, over and over, just a feeble attempt to be human.

I can be content, I can be happy, and I can get along with people, but everything fees so impersonal. The only thing I seem to be truly feeling is despair, and a longing to exist again.

To know there person I could be and have been, and to know the person I am now, a shell of myself... I can see the difference, and I can't fucking deal with it anymore.

I say people mean the world to me, and when I say that I mean to mean it. But.. I don't even know if I'm capable of even caring, truly caring about anyone or anything. I just don't care... I can't figure out how to anymore. And.. the things that people say, all of them sting. For some reason everything feels a blow, and I do;t understand it. Even good matured things not intended to hurt. I feel like a sand castle being worn down by rain.. I cant explain it, I don't have the ability to say it.

This has been a steady decline.. It's gotten slowly worse with each day. and It's becoming unbearable... Because i am feeling an emotion, the one that floods in, the one single one that can break through the fog in my head. Despair..

And while i feel stunted in every way mentally, physically I feel like I am wasting away. Food disgusts me. i can go a day with no food, and when the hunger builds enough for me to eat, I can only eat a little, and after the idea of food is again so repelling. Its disgusting. Sooo disgusting. This was novel at one point. Loosing unwanted weight was a welcome prospect, and while I don't believe i am b any means thin now, I know I'm not eating what I should, and I feel like shit all the time.

I could type about those things for paragraphs...

But i need this to stop, because I'm at a point where i just.. I have an ounce of motivation, f caring left, and if nothing changes with that, then I feel like I'm done, at least for now.. Just done. I cant explain this. If i could say it in words I would, but I feel so pathetic in every way.

This is optional though. This is all optional. If i just cut one pill out of my daily routine, the fog will fade, slowly, but surly, it will fade... Articulation will again come with ease. And maybe I could feel a little.

But.. ut that comes at a price. Its a steep price at times, the price is.. ... I don't know. I don't feel like I can survive, and I didn't even know why. Then there's other little issues that get bigger. I love food and of course i don't live an active enough lifestyle to eat and not get fat. That's a side issue, but it certainly does suck.

I.. I meant to say so much here, and it's all gone now. All I know is that with every word anyone utters I just want to cry,and I almost do... And it doesn't even matter that's being said, it just breaks me down, and i have no fucking clue why... I can't deal with any of this.

This is the foundation my life is built on. All the shit that has to go on with me and the people around me.. It's all built on this mound of shit. It's something beyond what I can deal with. Things more serious like betrayal of trust and words and lies, or stupid things like drama and people who haven't experienced enough of life to be mature, all those things cut only as deep as they can before they hit bone. There's nothing left to buffer those blows.

The isolation I feel can't be described in words. No matter how much I know I'm not alone, know that I am, and I don't understand why. I'm operating on such a primal level at this point. all I can think about is burying my face is someones shoulder and crying..and I don't know why... I'm an island... is chaotic waters.. or something. I don't even know anymore.

4 years ago I knew my self and where I wanted to go, and I was fucking getting there. I had lots of shit going on, but no matter how alone I felt, I always felt human,I felt alive, to some extent, and I felt like I could go somewhere, I had a chance at one day attaining that holy grail of happiness, or maybe just contentment.

But today.. I'm mangled on the floor, crippled by life's blows and the chemicals from that little bottle i consume without fail each and every morning.

I know I'm ruining my self, and yet I see no other way to dull the harsh realities of my life, or at least the things I see as realities. I'm afraid I'll fall deeper again into the same hole I've managed to climb out of...

I type this only to explain everything that might or might not happen.. To explain why I waste away, maybe unnoticed before your eyes......

What is there to say? So.. so very much, but it's just gone now. gone..