Friday, Sept. 06, 2002 - 10:19 pm
This is too strange for me to handle. Which is why I don't handle things well.
My friends seem like strangers. My family's not my home. Music's not here to help me.
All I have is this fucked-up corner on this four-cornered room and there's this huge spiderweb on the top corner and I'm shivering.
Cold.
Hungry.
And scared. Cause I have a fear of spiders.
And the room is on the 124th floor and the walls and floor are all glass. I can see through them. And it's night. And no-one's there.
Again, I'm scared. Cause I have a fear of heights.
In my head, I hear voices. Screaming. Yelling. Crying. It's cutting through the usual awkward silence. It's so loud. Oh my god. It's so piercing. It's deafening. Who's making that hideous noise? Make it stop! Make it stop! It's going on and on and on and on and it's blood-curdling! Make it stop! But nobody can. It's all in my head.
The screaming's on 24/7, to the highest volume, plus bass. It's like music to my cold hard heart but deep inside, in my blood, I know it's wrong to be liking all the yelling. Kicking. Screaming.
It's sickening. So awful.
And then I see little flashes of him. One there, one there, one there.
I want to run to him, tell him how I feel, make him stay. But he's gone.
Flashbacks run through my mind. Of our first kiss. Of all my childhood memories. And then I see him again. He's falling. But I can't catch him.
Then I fall. And he catches me. Even though he knows I'm gonna fall again.
Flashbacks. Laughing. Smiling. Dancing. All that's changed. Changed and there's nothing I can do about it. I wonder if it's gonna change again.
It's all different now. I can hardly say I'm alive. Nor am I dead. Just in between. Leaning more towards dead.
The yelling and kicking and screaming and crying starts filling up my glass-walled room on the 124th floor and me going crazy in the corner.
Crazy.
The world's crazy.
All this leads to one thing.
Puberty.
