Inside it's 102 degrees

*Warning- This is creepy, and I was extremely feverish. However, I won't deny this is a large part of my recent mentality, as demented as it may sound. It's a part of me I struggle with on a daily basis, and in this case, it got the better of me. I wonder why I'm so exhausted... I have to control this all of the time. You may continue at your discretion...*

But in this feverish delusional state, I see myself more clearly than ever. A plethora of chaos, competing opposites and an inner turmoil that never ceases. The dark circles under my eyes reveal a lack of sleep, or maybe too much. I have to embrace the only realm I can control. My dreams are a myriad of vibrant colours and settings that bend to my will, always submitting. The only control I have, really. In a wakened state I am torn between the two halves that are at constant war with each other. But the darkness is currently, and has been prevailing.

I know exactly what I am. A tiny, insignificant piece in the grand scheme of nothing. Man thinks they are so great, so strong and so proud. But we are inferior beings. We destroy and give nothing back. But oh, we love so deeply. We offer each other so much! That's really fuckin cute. Optimism means nothing if you actually look at things. Selfishness is in our nature and only the ruthless will rise.

I revel in my misery, find comfort in suffering. I am sadistic, masochistic, apathetic, morbid and cold. That part of me that cared has been drained to almost nothing. It amuses me that people try so hard to see what's inside my head. They probe and ask stupid questions. That poor, troubled girl. Oh no, no. You're mistaken. Troubles are for those who are confused about who they are, where they stand. I know exactly who I am. If they only knew the things I see, the thoughts conceived. And yet they still try to get close. They enter that labyrinth surrounding, imposing, guarding that tiny part of me that cared. It's there somewhere, but there are so many walls built around it, so many obstacles and dead ends. Yes, the capacity is there, it kept trying to peak its head out and gain precedence, but it's been silenced. It's now a nearly empty void and I'm not interested in filling it with anything. It has been locked away for good reason, banished to the inner most depths. It is safe and untouched, intangible. It would be wise to turn around before your string runs out and you can't find the way back out.

I will never understand their efforts. They get nothing back, but a cold, blank stare or a carefully constructed facade. They don't comprehend that I won't let them in. Why shouldn't I? What they don't see is that I want to be alone. Solitude is my only refuge. No one will, can understand those narrow, winding paths that inevitably lead them nowhere. I prefer to watch, separating myself, creating a distance. I am not above anyone, just to the side, spectating, brooding, pondering other things. I see motive behind words and actions. I see emotions that I can't emulate. I feel nothing and want nothing. Sure, I can put on a friendly smile and act like I'm interested, happy, content. Anyone can do that. But this isn't a defense. I have nothing to defend. We are all trapped in this, but I don't want to play and I won't. I will sit in the dark, for the light is unnervingly painful and unpleasant. I am always watching and waiting. For what? I don't know. I'm just biding my time. The silence is perfect. Don't break it.