Psychic Torture

Stephen Pimley | Thoughts | Tuesday, September 26th, 2006

In the time since I have stopped consuming vast quantities of chemicals, several major changes have overtaken all previous direction. My ability to socialize, amuse, and otherwise be among humanity has further withered and retreated to the point I consider that me, dead. So much as dried fruit you can soak in water all day long but fresh never tastes twice. Now, that reaction was certainly not expected nor is it fully understood. I can only assume those abilities originally came not from the environment but from me myself. Whether for actual coping or simply a means of continued existence it seems quite odd it would disappear now of all times. My use for it has not diminished in any form and quite to the contraire blossomed with new realms of awakening. It seems yet another sacrifice, another limb thrown to the trail behind, all in the naught of survival yet. What then, is left of me? Not much, not much at all I can pin. The caring and kind too has drained for without means of expression the conflict became another burden of mind drowning. In moments fleeting I do still mention the faces trapped deep inside.

{Disclaimer}At this point I fell asleep at the keyboard for 10-15 minutes then awoke to finish getting ready for bed. Yes, I really write like this when I’ve been up 26 hours straight. And yes, I proofread this and still stand by the coherency (where applicable). YOU WOULD CRY TOO IF THE ONION RAPED YOU. [Delirious mumbling] To be continued another day…

{Disclaimer #2}This was re-edited on 2008-03-30 for some minor nudges towards clarity.

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