The World Is Quiet Here

The world gets too quiet sometimes.

All sounds fades away to a dull roar, all mixed together, and images move in slow motion, their colors muted. It is in these moments that I create my own world, and it's a dangerous world, for in it, anything can happen, and I am powerless to stop it.

Sometimes is can be wonderful. I have the most amazing daydreams, dreams of meeting the perfect guy, falling in love, growing up and having a family. I dream of saving the world and of making movies. I dream of traveling. I dream of death.

For me, death is everything. It is all I want and all I fear. It is terrifyingly imminent and yet it seems so far away that I grasp at it only to have it dance from my fingertips. Sometimes I dream of car crashes or of drive-by shootings. I dream of dragging a blade across my wrists, throat, chest; pulling a trigger to bury a bullet in my brain. I dream of tall cliffs and of fast-moving trains; I dream of drowning and falling and burning and everything in between. My dreams scare me. My dreams keep me going.

Sometimes, at night, when my paranoia kicks in really bad, the only way I can relax myself enough to fall asleep is to remind myself that even if someone were to kill me in the night, it would be okay, because I want to die anyway.