Prologue: I Can't Take It
I can't take it anymore. I just, I... I can't. This lack of feeling. It's so annoying, it makes me hurt so fucking much! I have no reason to complain, I'm not sad, or angry, or... Anything, I'm just... Hurt. I don't know how to feel even, or what to feel. I just want to know what it is like... What it's like to feel. To be sad, to be happy, to be pissed as fuck. As all this shit goes on around me, I wish I could do anything. Stamp into my bedroom and slam the door, lie in bed all day and cry until it hurts, smile and laugh until I annoy myself. But I can't.
Sometimes I'll just sit around, listening to all sorts of different music, hoping it'll make me feel. I'll take the sharpest knife or razor I can find, and rake it down my flesh a few times, hoping I'd feel something besides physical pain. I'll read things that should piss me off or mock myself, hoping I'll get angry. But I just don't. Nothing makes me feel, at all.
Oh well, guess I'll just go to bed. Maybe I'll dream about something worth caring about. Maybe something good will happen tomorrow.
-December 13, 2013
