there's nothing like sickness to pull me away from the world... dreams that consist of me surrounded by loneliness, searching in vain for someone to connect with, but there's nothing... and it weaves a reality beyond consciousness where nothing can satisfy and i'm completely alone and all that i do is purposeless, meaningless, searching for something that will never be there. it's hard to shake dreams like that, hard to shake those subconscious yearnings for friendships that seem so far away... easier to forget when i'm kept busy throughout the day, kept relatively fulfilled... scratch that.... largely fulfilled. but then one small bout of sickness erases everything, removes me from life, and places me in some kind of solitary confinement that's exacerbated by my own dreaming subconscious, fucking with me. it's as if once my mind finds its captive lonely, it feeds it with all possible avenues of despair, a fun game, let's see what happens. it just makes me want to sleep, continue the cycle, i give in so easily.
i'd like to paint, but i can't muster enough energy. i'll just bitch about it instead.
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