it feels somewhat like being inside a large box, running around as fast as I can (constant self-propelling is a key factor here) and literally hitting and bouncing off of each of the four walls (sometimes the ceiling and floor, too). boing. ping. crash. bang. Just forming this invisible lattice of convoluted energy in the middle-height of this box.
fuck. I'm frantic. somehow, at some point, this slippery slope became a lot more slippery than I had thought it to be. I actually believed that somewhere along the line there would be at least a leveling out, if not a rise again. But hell no. I've somehow ended up slipping way past the point I had ever imagined. and I'm sincerely scared. I am fucking petrified. I don't know what to do. Thing is, I seem to have misplaced *hope*. where the fuck did it go? in the laundry basket? in the trash? down the toilet? did it evaporate from the heat? does hope do that? does it actually go away for ever? fuck I hope not. ah! there it is. hello there little hope. between 'I' and 'not'. there's hope. dig.
I find my self suddenly taking toll of all the people that are gone. just gone from my life - fallen off like loose pieces. some were cast off actively, some dove off fervently. but then there are those that just got tired of dangling and just sort of let go. no surprise, though, since I've been a shitty friend all around since last year's plummeth of my own. I turned so goddamn inward that I pretty well just forced everyone out. and most of them just got tired of trying. and I don't blame them. Sad thing is, as pathetic as this sounds, now I am utterly alone. I love my friends. yet suddenly I find myself completely without any. what the fuck did I do? and is this reperable? is any of what is going on inside of me reperable? these days it feels not. and that's what is freaking me out completely. that I don't know where to go with myself. days just melt into eachother, with the majority of each one spent staring at a monitor and pushing pixels around. that's it. that's all there is. and it's sort of no surprise that my hope has snuck out the back door in the midst of it all.
something's gotta give.
I'm thinking of booking off two weeks of vacation at work. getting on a plane with Sy and disappearing. and then never coming back. just let ourselves turn into tumbleweed. go wherever the wind or breeze takes us. I know I am tumbleweed. I've always felt it. how ideal a thing to be.
something is very wrong. and I hope I don't lose my grip on the last dangling string.
