Now we'll know who you are when you enter our home

A devil's trap in the ceiling inside the front door. Everyone sane should have it.

Note to self

Don't write when drunk.

Ah, what the hell. I'll write anyway. Better here than writing at my book at the moment. I cannot think. My hair is black again and I feel like myself again. I like my life right now... and I like rum. A lot.

I miss me so much

Tonight I made 48 cinnamon buns. Now I am just sitting here, staring. I miss something, but I am not sure of what. I think I miss me. Hopefully I will find me now when autumn arrives. I usually do.

I don't know what's wrong. This is not me. I am not this blob sitting in front of the computer day in and day out, too scared to actually have a social life. When people come to visit I say hello and then run and go hide. Smoke too many cigarettes. Eat too little. Me? Eat too little? What is happening?
I cannot even force myself to go to the place that's always been my safe haven in every town or city - the library. It feels like my inside has turned to coal.

Everything seems to be ignored by me right now. I cannot agree with anyone, not even the love of my life.
I just want to go for a cup of coffee, but I never have the money and seldom the company.
I should fix the bike and go down town every day. I should find a way out of this strange place, but I cannot see the way clearly.

Something must happen. I must make a change. I just don't know how to start.
By all Gods, I miss me so much.

Strange times

"Sometimes I lie awake at night in my bed and I watch the Stars, and I wonder, where the fuck is my ceiling?"
-Tiffany-Joanne

Things are becoming stranger and stranger, or at least it feels like it. I feel totally lost in my social life, lost at school, lost outside my door and lost in my own livingroom.
I think I would need some grounding (can someone sell me Boots of Grounding, def. +2, please?). I need some directions, a steady rock where I can stand.

I am Jack's slipping mind.

I probably should try to sleep more, and dream less. Not the other way around which is the case theese days.
You know what? First Class. Distance tutoring. It all feels surreal. Is this really studying? What the hell am I doing?

Is that a door? Fine. I'll use it.... NO. Stop there. Stop trying to use doors. You cannot get out now. Put yourself together.