Sunday, December 28, 2008

Slipping

I can't make it. I feel like screaming. I feel like throwing a tantrum. Don't make me go back! Don't make me go back! There's too much to do, too much to see. I don't want to go back to that little box. The hours are slipping away. When the days seemed plentiful, things were fine, I didn't seem to mind, but now that my time is numbered I feel things slipping through my fingers. It's out of my control. My days are numbered. I can see myself pacing like a cat behind bars, tense and unpredictable. My brain searches for a way out, but there isn't any. I look out my window at the darkness and in my mind I actually think "I've experienced my last sunset." I don't know why things seem so final, like there's no other time but now. R & H know something's up and they're trying to comfort me. They are telling me it will be fine. I want to believe them.
Endure.

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