Can I just scream? That would get it out. Get IT out. All out, all gone, it’s lost. I’m lost. Truly don’t know what to say. Don’t get weird on you? What is that supposed to mean? On you? Don’t be weird. I was already weird, but you certainly are not helping. This is driving me crazy. You are driving me crazy! Do you want me to be crazy? It sure seems like your goal. Get me alone, crazy, stupid. (Alone. We are alone. Two stupid lonely souls combining to get… You are not alone. You already have…) No, not stupid, terrible thing to say. That someone so smart could be so stupid. (Might have to take me out back and…)
Me? Smart? Smart aleck, smartastic, sarcastic? Yes. Smart? No.
My blood is running cold and I am shaking. Not from the cold, I’m used to the weather. But this -this thing- makes me shiver, my hairs stand on end. On end, the end. Is this my end? End is definite, death too final, too simple. (Suicide is no longer an option.) The dead are cold. Am I dead? I think, therefore I am, therefore living. Can I be and still be dead? It’s not a physical cold, (physical. Physical cold. Physical hot.) it’s a psychological cold. All in my head. All in. All or nothing, in my head. Making it up, of course not intentionally. Or, yes, intentionally, subconsciously.
Talking about it does not calm anybody down. It is not up for discussion. (SHUT UP) It is to reflect and drive me crazy, but it is never to be discussed. With anyone, especially you. I cannot talk to you about you. (You: the object of my affection, my attention. My excuse for lack of attention to things others deem important.)
Take a pain killer, numb myself. Hardly solves anything. Seems that whenever I am numb is exactly when I need to feel. (Feel what? Feel who? Feel life.)