*what a good boy what a smart boy what a strong boy. 2002-10-09 7:35 p.m.*

i asked mit today if he believed that craziness and the awareness of craziness are mutually exclusive. he says no. i can be crazy and know it. but he kept trying to convince me that i wasn't. we discussed the way life is getting more and more like an acid trip and whether that's a flashback or something else. the sky gets brighter and more... solid, and the air gets liquid. but maybe that's just humidity. i also asked if maybe i was romanticizing crazy and trying to emulate it. he says no. he is not, however, in my head. i am not yet writing love poems to insanity like i did in high school.

i am however wrapping myself up in yarn for comfort, curling under my bed (not that there's anything inherently crazy about sleeping under one's bed, but there are many boxes under there), contemplating spending a few days in the caples fine arts bathroom because it's small, chewing on my fingers because they taste like hot dogs, and chopping crayons into tiny pieces. as well as the less charmingly eccentric things like... yeah... never mind. at this point it's all fairly calculated, but my sentences are making less sense these days sometimes, and... yeah... maybe i am losing it.

i have an appointment with my counselor on friday. it was cancelled on monday. part of me is so terrified of what i would do to myself if not for that appointment. and part of me wants to sit there in silence, hugging my warm nibbly demons close. at least they'll nibble my ears.

worship my goddamn body.

*listening to: *
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