I still wake up on warm Saturday afternoons to the sun’s orange rays, coming through my windows and still I wake hollow, still broken.

i feel like im driving through this life in the back seat of a taxi, watching the driver take turns and stop at signs. I feel that the plastic panel between my and the driver is thick as a mans clenched fist and what’s worst of all is that the tranparent panel is scratched and …

Sometimes, I wonder why I don’t like being with new people, why the effort of interaction affects me so. Its pretty unsocial. I know that I have it in me to be whatever I see around me, to become exactly as i think they are, but i don’t want to and in not wanting to …

I’m removed from this body of mine, I see myself in the mirror and I can’t relate this face, this chest and these hands to me. Its as if my thoughts have morphed into this man I see in the morning – mature, old, undecidedly consistant. I don’t know who I am on the inside …

In the quiet space of this room, I only hear my breathing as it thunders through this place that I find myself in. silence mutes all. calmness watches over me this one last time. I’m at peace. i slowly loosing senses – my life has become that silent movie in my dreams Every stroke of …

sometimes I rearrange my mind and find time this one last time, to break these/my rules before me and i speak of my inconsistent resistance. Sometimes I draw pictures in my mind for instance – depressing impressions of the past – just to remember where I have been and who I’m pretending to be. Everything …