IÖumÖhave almost completely lost it. Itís kind of weird. I always wanted to lose it, and I finally have. Iím not realÖumÖviolent, like I wanted to be. And Iím not hoping to run over small children, like I planed. I just sortía sit a mope. Trying to think.
How much of this is chemical?
How much of this is a lack of serotonin? Just impulses in the brain? If itís all a matter of liquid exchange in the brain, then what is the point of thought? Where is the soul?
Or am I acting? Putting on a show for myself, trying to prove that I have feeling. I donít really react to stress, but I do seem to be crying allot lately. Why? Am I showing others that Iím sad? Am I sad? Am I just pretending? What is this feeling of depth? This abyss of endless, yet pointless sorrow? Angst? Iím I sixteen again?
What the hell happened? Sure I canít stand my job, but who doesnít? Yeah, my step-dadís had a mental break-down, but does that effect me? Should it? Did it?
IÖumÖdonít have time to write anymore. Thereís some thinking to do. Brain under constructionÖIíll try to keep up on the comic. Weíll see