i would like to think more thoughts that would be obvious otherwise, some sort of reflex within me is to skip over anything that might make me seem slow or unintelligent. i will allow myself to think small, obvious thoughts. when does one know whennot to speak,,,something else, make me something else. i want to be him. i want to be him. i want to be him and i want to have the ability to do any sort of action that may bring us closer. i want to be close to him and i want to be him. the me that i feel, in myself, is not the me that i was given. i am nothing, and he is nothing. so i am him
i think about being unseemly. i am not. but that's not where my mind is. doesn't it matter? you get what you are given, isn't that right... how long will this go on? these patterns? not very long i imagine. and then i will mourn them. i don't want to live in her neighbourhood. i'll kill myself. i'll kill myself, right in that house, and it'll take them a few days to come to the conclusion to check, and then they won't be able to get in because I will have locked and tied the doors and windows, so they will need to be strong, and even then it will fail them. because that's not what they wanted, by then they will have been able to guess. and you know what they will find, they know it too. i'll be so happy. i'll be so happy that i won't have to witness it. if i were to leave more, it would have been pointless. like an addict, addicted to breathing. if you really were to quit, why does the last indulgence really matter? i'll have gone in the opposing direction, i'll warp myself to the polar opposite to what i want, i will conform. and then i will realize there was really no way for me to live at all. to truly be myself, i would have to be dead.