I feel like I'm clinging. I'm clinging to my books and my music and my changing ability to interpret myself. I'm clinging to my nighttime fantasies and my nighttime hopes and I'm clinging to you. I'm clinging to whatever I can still feebly grasp with my numb fingers.

Why do I have moments of sheer ecstasy and utter exhaustive despair in one day? I want off this ride right now. I don't like crash landings. I like climbing down into madness slowly and surely while falling in love with the flowers along the way.

How can I describe how I feel? Its hard when you don't even feel fully conscious. That's the only way I can put it. You can't describe something in detail if your not even there to feel it. I'm not even here. But... I don't want to die before I'm dead. So I continue to fumble in the dark for the switch.

My limbs feel like they don't even belong to me. I feel like everything I see is as if on a giant screen. The characters are surreal and absurd like clowns. Everyone looks like a clown to me. And clowns make absolutely no sense. All my parts are trying to break off and get away from me. They want out. They can't bear to take orders from my drunken brain anymore. I don't blame them. I'd get out if I could too.

I think everything is going to collapse. The trees, the walls, the floor, my body. The air is going to combust and my eyes are going to burn up.