...painfully Curious...about How It Feels

The Madness Is There, And Will Always Be There. But It Will Keep Sleeping, As Long As I Don't Wake It Up.

My Brain Sometimes Departs From The Agreed-upon Reality, And My Private Reality Is A Very Lonely Place. But In The End, I'm Not Sure I Wish I'd Never Gone There.

Because I'm Not, In Fact, Depressed, Prozac Makes Me Manic And Numb - One Of The Reasons I Slice My Arm In The First Place Is That I'm Coked To The Gills On Something Utterly Wrong For What I Have.

My Bones Are Brittle, My Heart Weak And Erratic, My Esophagus And Stomach Riddled With Ulcers, My Reproductive System Shot, My Immune System Useless... I'm Not Going To Have A Happy Ending.

I Wish I Could Find Words To Explain What This Kind Of Cold Is Like- The Cold That Has Somehow Gotten In Underneath Your Skin And Is Getting Colder And Colder Inside You.