One Result of Jousting Windmills
The IM Chaos Simple List told a grim tale. Not even a full half dozen profile viewers. I honestly thought I was getting some sort of message off to the world. Maybe I really am that naÔve. And now I feel like a fool, talking to a wall all this time.
Iíve lost too much sleep. I donít know how much longer Iím going to last like this, and the bitch of it is that I donít even have that much work yet. But there are other ways to lose sleep, it would seem. Iím lashing out at things that are only there to help me, and being brought to my knees by every misstep. In all likelihood this shall be the final entry, since all reason this interesting little project seems to have been blasted into oblivion, and I lack the energy to lie to myself.
Oh, and happy valentineís day.
What sleep I do get has begun to turn on me; Iím having nightmares again. I stopped getting them in middle school, and now I canít catch a wink and a half without images of fear and disappointment flashing into the REM playground.
Iím happy to know that I answered most of the questions Iíve ever had. The secrets arenít secret anymore, at least not to me, but it would be nice to share them. Oh well.
Why is it so warm nowÖ?
Iím strongly considering just shutting myself in my room and doing all the work I can, burying myself in duty to avoid bittersweet freedom. It seems so tempting, for it would mean liberation if I could master so much in so little time. Conversely though, it would also be spiritual suicide (or perhaps a mercy killing).
I simply do not have the strength to keep on fighting. If that means surrender, then hand me a white flag, because this war is soon coming to its end. My biggest regret is that I never got to be a hero. What boy doesnít dream of such a chivalrous moment, to be the knight in shining armor, to save the day? I guess chivalry is just a myth after all, and fairy tales deserve the name.
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