I thought, by now, I'd rather figure it out.

~From the notebook of mine~

I'm half of a man right know. Half of a woman actually. I dwell in the dark all the time, the bittersweet darkness and vagueness of my own memories.
It's like choking, drowning while you can see everyone except you breathing. It's being all alone, yet surrounded by the people that are ridiculously happy. It's like their minds are innocent, untouched by the anxiety, by being left all alone to rot and die. I don't want a life like this. I don't want this to last. But yet, I'm unable to finish this madness. Because of the memories. They keep me alive just to destroy me, piece after piece, until nothing's left from my soul. Until they'll destroy me, they won't let me pull that trigger. Or run onto that knife. Or jump from this enormous cliff outside the hideout. I would fall with the waterfall beside me and in the most unexceptable moment, Iwould crash onto this sharp rocks. And I would be washed out from them by water instantly.
Water is purifying. Water is good. Icecold, crystal clear godess enclosed in the transparent glass. I keep it beside me, but I don't drink from it. Being purified is not what I'm for here now.
I listen to this song about everything and nothing. And I write about everything and nothing. I write about phylosophy. I avoid using words describing life and feelings. Why? Because...
"If you can't feel anything, you can't feel the pain."
These voices in my head. They seem so distant still they are not that far away in the past. They grow weaker with each moment. Oh, I used the contrast. But that's how it is. Everything is a little bit of irony.
My life's being an irony by know.
"You're not to live these times again."
I know. But I want to sit here just a moment longer. Just few more seconds, minutes, hours, days. That should be enough. But it won't be and I know that.

~Few more days passed~

A fresh page, a new start.
...
I'm such a liar.
I don't feel less depressed. But it's not worse, either. I go back with my memories when everything was okay. Today he said:
"You look fatigued, do you want to sleep?"
I know him. He just wanted to ask if I'm feeling well. I told him:
"It's nothing. I'm just feeling a little tired because of my last assignment."
And then I tried to smile, like nothing happened.
I am a good actress. He didn't suspect anything.

~I don't write any dates. I write very rarely anyway.~

Today I talked to him.
























~Somewhere in spacetime~

I'm dealing with it. These dreams are not true. They wouldn't all die. They can't.
At least he told me, that:
"I wouldn't left you. We're invincible, right?"
I try to believe him. I think he didn't only mean what he said.
I'm tired of figuring things out.
I go to sleep, he's always there.

~In the dark space around me~

I have to stop doing that.
I will talk with my F. He'll understand me.

I feel like I was ready to go out.

~...~

After the time passed, I enjoy memories that awakened in my mind.
I don't have nightmares for now.
But... I still feel uneasy with this old nigtmare.
I'm afraid of waking up in my dreams. Everything feels so real then.



I envy him. He doesn't need to sleep.

~none~

I crossed out all the pages. Having this notebook won't make me feel better. But I leave it on the bottom of my drawer. Maybe I'll read it sometime and won't care about it.