Reality is a funny thing.  Right now it feels like I am sitting in my little chair in my little house as still as can be, but someone once told me that in reality, I am spinning wildly on the surface of a giant sphere at thousands of miles per hour, hanging in the delicate balance between centrifugal force and gravity.  Life itself is a delicate balance.  My life is delicate, so easy to destroy.  I’m destroying it now.

It has been a long day and though I long for sleep I can’t help but sit in this chair thinking useless thoughts and allowing my brain to slowly decay.  No, I am not a zombie, yet, but I could probably commiserate with one should we ever meet.  Ideally we would not converse about how tasty brains are (I have no appetite for them) but rather, the decaying of our once luscious gray matter.  Then again, it is unlikely a zombie would take the time to discuss mushy brains before attacking and forcing me to put a slug in the bastard’s head.  How very disappointing.  Now, I am alone again except for the soft humming of the refrigerator.

I feel something cold and wet drip onto my shoulder – a drop of blood.  I expected this; the blood drips every night.  Soon the dripping becomes a drizzle, and then the walls begin to seep the red sticky substance.  It flows down to the floor, covering the tile and painting the room a deep, romantic hue. Tomorrow I will have to buy a mop and clean everything, but tonight I will just enjoy the show.  Eventually the velvety liquid warms my feet and I wiggle my toes a bit to create little ripples that stretch and fade.  I am only granted a few minutes of peaceful solitude until the old grandfather clock in the hallway chimes its three a.m. song and the spell is broken.

I begrudgingly tromp through the crimson mess and shake off my feet before climbing into bed.  In the solitude of my room, I am left with my own inane thoughts, and even small frustrations become unbearable.  The itch just behind my left ear vies for my attention, and then slinks off to another part of my body.  My toes are set too close together to be comfortable and a couple of my eyelashes are touching one another, only to be made worse when my clumsy fingers try to intervene.  I hear another minute click by on the clock, and the fantasy world begins to encroach and the minute loses all value as I drift off into another reality, void of structure and time.

Tomorrow brings another day full of monsters…


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July 26, 2011

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