Parasite

Not a real, full-fledged person anymore. Can't say I'm stil a ghost, but I will say that Connie has left her mind and soul. I suppose shes still in her body, well the physical evidence of her body has been left untouched, but her corrupt mind is controlling her body, so i suppose her body isn't under her command anymore. I ain't no general/commanding cheif of nothin' no more. Life is different now. Restless. Unreal. I don't know when it got like this. A dream brought me here. All of a sudden my past doesn't connect with my present or future. I don't get it. Restless, restless, restless. Sleep is for Austrailian wessies. they only REALLY sleep down' under. Actually, I don't have statisitcs to prove that fact, I just made it up. I just want myself back. Feel like a sociopath or some shit. like I'm going through the motions of caring so mush like I did before. I swear. I DID. It's not like I'm a rel sociopath. But, I've just becme different. Nostalgis gets me everytime. What I really want all the time is to be a child again. I won't though if I'm ok. Twitching. When did nothing become real? Am I supressing things or something? it's like I got raped or something. Did something traumatic happen to me? Or was it just that one bad time with pot? Everything became dreamy after that. I swear. And when I remember tat I think less about the whole "bipolar" scenario. I am hot. But everything has been conceted since he pot and that dreamy feeling. When I smoked my min went into a swoosh. Like everything god was wrong. And then even what was "sooo" right was the most terrible, vile, and wicked thing in the world. And I was saying I was the devil. It was terror for some hours. And then that other time with the one medication, the terror too, ll day long and my memory is impared now. And with that mdication the drwam I had that wasn't a dream, just a killer killing feeling. All this fucked me up. It has been trauma. Trauma that I'll never remember. Something bad happened in my mind which is as bad as something happening to anyone externally. What happened/whats wrong with me? Come back, come back, come back...Connie? What are you? An earthling still? Why has my perception been phased and dazed? I want to remember something. Something real. Since a month ago everything has been superficial. And Connie, she cries inside, se wants tobe COnnie. Connie is NOT superficial. What happened to make me feel high everyday? Bad "acid trip" for a month. Can I just go back? Connie can't just forget or not notice that ses canged in a bad and weird way where shes not hersef. She can't continue on like this. She needs closure and realness. And the answer. It all seems to be held above me. And everyday I think I'll find it more. I think I'll find it about 30% now where s I thought I'd find it about 1% when I started. PAUSE FOR AN UNSPECIFIED AMOUNT OF TIME. But, it's still not the same in writing I feel content cause I go to aplace. When I pick up the pen and go back to not writing and conscienceness I realizze again that my consciencess is altered. Scarily. And I hate acting like its ok. It's not. But then i also go back to not noticing it because I've become immuned to it a bit because everyday and every second I am like this. But I still hate it. It's satan, bee'lzebub. Someone perform an exorcism on my mind? Please? I STILL feel the day I smoked. And the other day I did. And the day with te medication. I still feel like I did in those times. Those days I am connected to. But not my past perception. My past perception was differnt from mind now. Past= real person, not noticing as much, yet, in a strange way, noticing more. I suppose the difference between then and now are the different types of things I notice. I noticed less things of one category then and more of another category, and vice verse to now. It's just all so strange. Sheer absurdity! I want to be rid of it all. Wash my hands of it. Too bad its not just grme, its sticky sap from a pine tree I so carlessly climed in my youth. That shit never comes off easily. I just want it to disprse, deteorate, dilute, dissenagrate, decompose, discombobulate and....fucking die. Perish you vermin! You parasit, you leech! Stop sucking the blood out of my conscienceness! You didn't ask for permission you scoundrel! But then again, scoundrels are known widely to refrain from asking for permisson so I can't be suprised. Although, (I never said I was suprised)...yet, tat doesn't account for the ongoing despair I have dwelled in for the past month does it now?