A Relapse In Paranoia, a Stream of Conscious Writing

 I put the puzzle pieces together like a weary detective. I'm too tired to think clearly, and I've never seen anything with such clarity. My intuition drives me into a foggy maze of fear and certainty. I am not uncertain. I am knowing. I am knowing that the dominoes will soon fall and my life will be proven to be nothing. I am knowing that the veil is temporary, that the compassion will not last. I am knowing that the schemers long for this fear. In the moment of my greatest climax, the fear will be realized. It will consume me, and I will be forever gone. In this body, forever lost. In this corpse, a sad song plays, and time passes. I am preparing for the worst case scenario. I am imagining and searching to prevent it from happening. It's quite funny if it isn't true. It's quite terrifying if it is. But it's just as funny if it is, this cruel irony. Because I am not certain. I know how this mentality asserts itself. This anxiety. I know it when it's gone. "It's just too good to be true." "This couldn't happen to me." A classic example of low self-esteem mixed with anxiety and a tired mind. The fear is a choice. But if it's happening, why would I not be scared? How am I to ignore my judgment? Look at it from different angles, Brandon. See it for what it is. Impractical. Illogical. Liars taught to lie would make many mistakes. Be cognizant, be assertive. Fear is all-consuming when you let yourself trip and fall on the root, only to stare at the root wondering how you could've tripped on something so small. The root is all you see and it grows from within. I just wonder what she sees in me that I don't see in myself. That's why I don't trust her. I don't believe that I have these qualities. It's because I don't. Because I'm tired. I'm inclined to consider these qualities on their own. What is it to be attractive, intelligent, funny, and kind? Like porn, you know it when you see it. Cruel irony suggests that many with these qualities can't see them, and many without them believe they are themselves representations. If you're reading this, I don't know what to say. I'm so quick to see the faces that wish to cause me harm. I can't find the faces that wish to be kind. They are interchangeable. But I know. A part of me knows. I don't want to admit it, and I'm not sure why I'm taking this out on them. I try so hard. I never know the right thing to say or do. I'm perpetually nervous. Especially when I realize that I'm not. I raise my guard and I become suspicious. How did you do that? Why did you do that? I think that I can not be loved. I think that I can not be admired or cared for. They're easy words to say. Hard to prove. Faith is the only answer. I place my Faith in you that you are not a liar. You choose honesty, and I know that you are not a liar. Now I'm the one putting you on trial. It doesn't seem fair. We all have little secrets, lies we tell ourselves and others. Maybe some are bigger than others. Maybe it's for the best. Let the feelings be felt. Let the hunger intimidate you, let the grandiosity of life compel you to abstraction and confusion. Let your eyelids fall, there are threats everywhere, but not here, not now. You are home. The hallways will not fall sideways, and the penetrating gaze of family is not condemnation. I am here. I am knowing that I am hungry. I am knowing that I am dehydrated. I am knowing that I long for connection, and that it is within my reach. I am knowing that I fear the simplicity of these final words being simply a way to cope with the truth. Those two-faced "friends" laughing at every sentence, spitting on me and my name. So spit. I am simply trying. I am finding my way, aren't we all? The evil that consumes my heart may lie within yours as well. I choose writing. I choose understanding. I choose to share my pain and fear and sorrow. I choose to give myself compassion when there's no hand to hold. I'm sorry you're so lost. Please follow my lead and sing your true song, if only quietly. I sing with these keys and the notes tap next to silence. If you're reading this, I said what I said. Now it's time to care for myself. And her. And them.