---(+ Holy Buffalo +)---

...and I've been able to let down my pseudoperson. Strange things rush to mind. Ones that'd normally come before falling asleep. Endless loop of whys. It doesn't help anything, and I know it, and it makes me annoyed.

I've been looping Metallica's "Sad but True", One, and Rise of the Triad's "You suck". Many, many times. Over and over again.

I want my empathy back. It has slowly drained away over the summer. Must be the new 'powerhungry' setting I have set my mind into. I don't know how to switch back to the one right setting. I'd have improvements to it from my misadventures in psychic land.

Losing empathy drained my ability to fully enjoy arts. And the ability to produce it. I'm left with a strange urge to cause harm, since it's the only way to give strong enough stimulae to cause an emotional reaction... joy.

Strange, but watching the news, the conflicts and accdents make me laugh at the stupidity of people. But I want to feel compassion. Alas, I can not. Unscrupulously taking advantage of people gives me joy, again because of their stupidity. But I don't want to cause harm more than necessary. Still, I have to.

I don't care.

" I don't care. "

They've always been the most painfully real words to me. Nothing hurts more then knowing no one cares any longer.

I know. I'm disappointed at myself for ending up in this state. I never thought to get so broken. But that was the dreamer me.

I live somewhere between a rock and a hard place. Some days I care...some days I don't. It wasn't until the surreal reality of death set in that I realized once more where maybe I should be.
If not for myself, then surely for him.

Yes, the constant shifting makes me not know who I am. I am nothing solid. I defy all attempts of realization. I've often said that I'm amorphic. Thus, I don't know my abilities or what my mental limits are. I don't know where the borders of me go.

I know what I've been through before. I know that I was able to deal with that and prosper on.

The sheer thought of testing my boundaries any further and possibly pushing them sends me running for my clonazapems.

Yes, but how do you know that your boundaries haven't constri... constra... shrunken? (damn words) Only thing I'm afraid is, that I will lose control of myself if I go that far again.

Phuck! I remember why I've tried to go to bed before 0500. The rising sun is reflecting into my eyes from the opposing windows, and it hurts like hell!

Exactly.

My windows are boarded up for that reason.

Again, Ile, are we different ends of the same spectre? I was just thinking just now, after watching another leg of that show I mentioned end (I was really surprised to read your reply), that I have too much of it...Empathy...And it hurts...It's too much sometimes. I know it's one of my biggest flaws, but then again, what would I be without it...Somebody I hate.

It'd seem that we are. I want the pain caused by empathy, since it's a vital ingredient in my beloved melancholy. The chocking feeling 'cause you're unable to do anything to help those that need it.

That's the one...