Devious Journal Entry

i have been spitting out bloody teeth. they are mostly not mine.

i have been reading and reading, bus graffiti and traffic signs that have been rewritten. i want them back.

i have been forgetting things and wandering, looking at everyone for an answer, just an answer. no one will look me straight in the eye and grasp my shoulders and tell me firmly that there isn't an answer, not to your question, and if you would just leave everyone alone now it would be appreciated.

i have been wrapped up, whether in myself or the world i cannot tell. they have melded, and i smile at the appropriate moments.

i want to have something to say again, i have always had something to say. currently everything has tipped over the line of chaos into a single, blended color, not unattractive, that will tear bits of your skin off if you stare too long.

i fear that i have been swallowing myself for so long that nothing remains. i sit and look at walls, they are comforting.

i talk to people, throw everything at them in hopes that they will stop and look at me funnily, ask are you okay. but nothing phases them. i do not phase them.

i am constantly torn. i cannot find reasons for habits that i desperately cling to, not even the fact that they are habits. my body despises me.

i cannot set anything into words, even after hours. i am consulted and silence drags on every word, delaying its birth.

i find myself unable to write to myself, i have forgotten the address that never existed. i eat my words and they never get back to me.

i have found a sudden need for pattern, organization, but by silly types and in lines that aren't parallel. i have forgotten how to spell.

it has taken me hours to write this, but i must say something. something, anything, but especially this.

i cannot see. perhaps that is the first sense to go, the last being the understanding of something that exists outside of yourself.

i have been reading everything and regurgitating it while everyone watches. i recite carefully, for fear of letting something fall.

i am turning and turning and turning but never finding myself where i started, i have come to think that true circles do not exist.

i let myself imprint on myself until i am covered in reminders of who i used to be, in case you ever forget here is what you will never measure up to.

i am talking, sometimes to no one but mostly to every living thing on earth. i have been telling people about their bodies and how important i am to something. someone, somewhere, some other such garbage, i am important.

i could go on, i will go on, the definition of forward has changed to accommodate me, the dictionary is quite flexible. i am now scuttling sideways out of the light, unnoticed so that i can continue.

i have been listening but not really listening because nothing is worth listening to anymore, not even the ticking of your own heart.

i have forgotten everything, but am so stuck on remembering it all that i am unable to form anything new, to mold.

i am collapsing inwards, around and on top of myself so that i leave very little behind, so that i am neat.

currently nothing has happened.
i fear being self-centered, i fear not having a self to center, i fear not having a center, i fear.

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will delete this momentarily but i need someone to read it first, i don't really care who.