I'm in a weird state right now. Like consciousness is fuzzy, perception is just a little off. Dreams begin to mix with reality. I feel like what i used to clean my floor last night wasn't Lysol, it was in fact bug spray and the cockroaches are presently forming brigades in a strike against me and my bad intentions. I feel like the girl that i came so close to embracing in a dream the other night might actually exist. The silence here is thick, impenetrable, i could shout obscenities to no one and it would do nothing but make my own head spin. I don't feel tired, i haven't felt tired for a while. Sleep is dreaded and haunting. It reminds me of my death and what dreams may come taunt my imagination to an extent of hoping for things that will never exist. In the waking hours, the lights, all terribly unnatural, are like x-rays peering into my head. Someone might be reading them, might be watching, might be waiting for the moment i slip. The second when the wavelengths shift into somewhere they've never been before, where decisions make no sense to anyone but myself. I can break the rules and cry havoc, but only at that moment in time and i'll be waiting as well, for the release, for the shit storm to whirl around my shriveled brain. Silence in insanity, insanity in silence. That's when the people, the green, the dirt will melt leaving me to my abyss. And a peaceful solitude it will be, away from the snarling breath, the filthy glances of shifty eyes, away from everything unkind.

She may exist, the girl, with long brown hair, with deep green eyes, but only in the interchangeable reality of the subconscious. Who's to say a world without rules, without perception of time or space or control can't be the real one. It's easy to give logic precedence but it is logic that says dreams are not real, and it is a dream that clearly states logic is rubbish. How are we to pick sides when there is no reason to exist in either. There may not be a beginning or an end to a dream, but as the universe is infinite there are no beginnings or endings here either, just a constant cycle of experiences, of events that have no real bearing on anything. So, she does exist, and for the moment the only reason i'm still here is because of the curiosity of it all. Nothing really matters, so experience is the key. The only thing left to do is to keep going in the same eventual direction, but take as many paths as humanly possible.

It's so easy to give up and fall captive to your own loneliness spitting a flurry of words that don't make any sense, but it's the fight we undertake. I'm going to get out of this place, go to the gym, maybe to the supermarket, hopefully replacing the brown haired girl with something more real. An image seen is better than an image created. (Maybe the reason i like photography so much...)