I…um…have almost completely lost it. It’s kind of weird. I always wanted to lose it, and I finally have. I’m not real…um…violent, like I wanted to be. And I’m not hoping to run over small children, like I planed. I just sort’a 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 it’s 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 don’t really react to stress, but I do seem to be crying allot lately. Why? Am I showing others that I’m sad? Am I sad? Am I just pretending? What is this feeling of depth? This abyss of endless, yet pointless sorrow? Angst? I’m I sixteen again?

What the hell happened? Sure I can’t stand my job, but who doesn’t? Yeah, my step-dad’s had a mental break-down, but does that effect me? Should it? Did it?

I…um…don’t have time to write anymore. There’s some thinking to do. Brain under construction…I’ll try to keep up on the comic. We’ll see