I always wondered if this is how people in comas felt. I am exhausted and worn out and I am more than willing to let my mind live for my body. In my dreams I know that what is happening isn’t real. I am no longer afraid of my nightmares because I tell myself that it is only a figment of my mind and that I can control it. In my dreams I can fly and fall in love and die and when I wake up I am still whole and unbroken. In my dreams I am safe even when I am running for my life. I am free from any emotion that I don’t wish to feel and that is the sweetest escape.
I am slightly repulsed by myself. I know that by sleeping for fourteen and twenty hours at a time I am a coward. I know it is only by sheer luck that I can even do this and still be physically taken care of, but that doesn’t matter when I close my eyes and forget about the world. In my head I berate myself, telling myself how lazy I am. I remind myself of the precarious situation that I’m in and that any moment something might change, and then where would I be? Homeless and alone and most likely dead within hours. But that doesn’t matter to me. In fact I often wonder if that isn’t persuading me to keep at this destructive behavior.
Round and round my thoughts swirl. The blind are drawn and the curtains taped shut. My eyes closed to everything. This is my sweet escape.

aww you precious thing... i hate it when they break spirits like yours

theres a special place for those like you in someones heart

aw thanks. =]

Your openness draws us to your heart, the life and precarious living, teetering and wondering, reality and depth..thank you for sharing a side, a slice. We have met, though we have not been in presence.