I've taken on too much.

The electricity running from my brain to my fingertips flies outwards, upwards, towards and then stops. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do.

It flies around the room, searching, seeking, until it finally draws down upon me, reentering me as you'd imagine a demon would on it's chosen troubled soul. Maybe you don't have to imagine.

I turn my music up until the bass vibrates my whole body. The mental haze I'm attempting to achieve cannot dampen the clarity I have now. The clarity I always have when it comes back. My body shivers at the thought and quivers at the feel, nothing seems real.

It's been thirteen days since I've gone outside of my room. The door is locked shut and the key is long gone. Windows are no longer my TV screen of the outside world. I'll let you guess why. Tinned food, bottles and these papers lay scattered about the place. Just incase, I have my CZ 82. Earlier I thought I was being stupid but I can't see many other ways to get out of this mess. Any other way to relieve this distress.

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