Ok, so I'm not dropping out but I am being just a part-time student for awhile. Until I get this whole major thing figured out.

Also I don't want to work at a restaurant anymore. As much as I didn't mind it because it gave me money, it sucked.

-_- *sigh*

We'll see.

I have to wear the back brace for another 6 weeks. I can sleep without it now which is awesome.

I started out writing a deviation but I ended up writing one of the most honest things I've written in a very long time.

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I heard once that death comes in shades of gray. That decay sets in long before a person becomes just a corpse. An object fading into the background.

My memories are fading in and out, blurring together. They never have been clear but it's worse now. Earlier today I couldn't remember what year I had been born. The nurse stared at me as my brow knit in momentary confusion. I laughed it off but the reality drove in deep.

Right now my motivation to do anything except write has gone before me to the grave. My stomach doesn't hunger and I have no need for entertainment. The sense of taste repulses me; the sense of smell makes me nauseous.

Contact with people, no matter how small, irritates me. Even those I once cared about, falling away. Day in and day out I curse my responsibilities and those who expect me to do more than to sleep.

I want to sleep.

Yesterday, a friend talked to me about suicide. It's been floating in and out of my conscious mind for months and has recently been settling in to stay. I've tried fighting it for weeks but each time, it digs deeper.

He said that a world without my special sort of humor would be a very sad world indeed. I looked at him in silence because...well, there is always another.

I'm not special. My relationships with people are superficial at best because I constantly feel like even if they died, I could move on. I hope no one feels offended by that because you really shouldn't. I don't mean that I don't value your friendship but rather that I have never based my sense of self on other people.

I don't understand death or people's reactions to it because I never have been like that. In a way that difference has always fascinated me.

It's not the darkness inside me that draws me in but the darkness inside of everyone else. I've always had a way of prying it out of people or, for those who already had it readily on the surface, I've taken amusement in observing it. Awe. Inspiration.

We're all fucked up in one way or another but I like to take people's darkness out and look at it. Dissecting their fears, their motivations, and their eccentricities. Usually it ends with them getting severely hurt and we stop talking. I've been trying to do that less and less.

But right now, it all seems so...unimportant. Even that much has failed in distracting me from my own inner demon.

College, while fun in itself, has sucked the life out of me. Delusional is what I have been and I suppose I still am for that is all we are. I don't need this to paint or make art and I surely don't need it when all it's done is kill me slowly.

I do enjoy the friendships I've made and while some may tell me that I'm making a mistake, I disagree.

I'd rather be a college-dropout than dead. And I'd rather be an artist now than waste two more years of my life slaving away to someone else's agenda.

I really like you guys. But I think I'm out one way or another. Maybe sometime in the future I'll go back to college to try again for something more worth-while.

Like writing. But that I can do without a degree too.



I may never amount to anything more than a mediocre artist and writer who works at a restaurant and can't decide what gender I am. But at least I'll be alive.

On some level, I guess I'm ok with that.

Maybe I'll write the next hit series and then can tell Stephanie Meyers to her face that she should be burnt at the stake for her torture of the written word.

Today I fractured my t12 vertebrae after slipping on some ice outside of the Design College. They took me away in an ambulance.

Because of my high pain tolerance, I heard the nurses saying I shouldn't be there. But then we got the xrays and they shut their whore mouths up.

They gave me morphine and a CAT scan.

Now I have to wear a CASH brace (full-torso brace) for two weeks (probably longer) and I can't get up the ladder in my dorm room to sleep. We'll figure that out on Monday.

For now, I'm going to take some Vicodin and watch some old Disney movies with my dog.

This week sucks...except for the Vicodin part.

I forgot that it was Valentine's this weekend.

Then again, this morning, I forgot it was Tuesday.

And February.

And 2010.

And for a little bit, I forgot who I was.

And I was happy.

But it didn't last long.



My head feels weird. Like there's pressure all around the back of it. And under my jaw. Pressing inward.

Maybe it'll implode.

I bet that'd be the weirdest feeling in the world.

Your brain's up there but when it's imploding, it wouldn't have time to send pain signals, would it?

Would you feel anything at all?



I'm forgetting a lot of things lately. It's pretty normal for me to be a space-case but this is absurd.

Maybe I'll talk to my doctor about it on Friday.

The days are just bleeding together. I can't focus on anything.

I keep feeling dizzy.



Hopefully when it implodes it won't be messy.

That sounds really messy.

Deleted a bunch of my old journal entries. The ones that I felt had some sort of value or significance are still here but it's hardly a fifth of what I had. The others were pointless ramblings.

Also deleted a bunch of my old badly written deviations. Most of it was stuff from over two years ago before my ability started really showing progress.

And now I'm going to sleep. This damn sinus infection and depressive state are really taking a toll on me.