I should sleep. I think I am shedding new skin. In this cocoon, I don't know what will come out of it.

When I was little I use to talk to myself. I use to create a fake talk show in my head and talk to myself as if I were the talk show host and then I would answer the questions. Or sometimes I would pretend that I was just talking to an audience, any audience.

Even though I know nobody was there, I think believing that there was helped me a lot. I use to wonder what other people thought about, if what I was thinking about was normal.

Something is happening to me. I can feel the hostility inside of me growing. The even more longing desire to be even more detached from society and reality all together.

I want to open doorways I never thought I could. I want to see what is on the other side.

I can feel something physically overcoming me.

Someone once randomly told me that if you hear someone calling your name but no one is there not to answer. I answer anyways.

What is the point of anything. What does it matter.