I guess there is no such thing as silence. Even when closing my eyes, blocking out the world, there is that sound that comes from inside, that throbbing of the blood flowing round your head, beating heart. Feeling doesn't stop, those rushes of physical sensation, whether its sore legs from working all day, or the chill of a freezing cold night. The feeling of tender flesh pressed against my clothes. Then there is thought, which above all else, will never be quiet. Sometimes totally inconsequential, but more and more bad thoughts, pain, fear, loneliness, rejection, anger, sadness, all take their turn at breaking the silence, but can't be caught to put away in their own little boxes, throw the key away for a little while, so i just don't have to hear them. I guess thats the rhythm of life really, that pattern of senses, a world for each individual to inhabit inside themselves, regardless of the outside world. But there is the outside world, that will not go either, so the patterns have to match. And thats where i am struggling, the patterns so often don't match. I feel out of touch with the world, like i'm running on a different pattern, clashing between the world of menchi, and the rest of the universe. I say clashing because there is no separation between any individual and the outside world, as much as they want to put up barriers, to isolate themselves. Thats something i don't want to do, but have had to more and more. I can't survive in the pattern of the world, it feels like i'm struggling and drowning, and i can't keep inside my own little world. And well, the self destructive urges are back with a vengence, and i've had to succumb to them already. But they are insatiable, and my head is driving me to wipe out my own existance as the only solution. And i fear that it's right, i can't find an alternative. The thoughts going around in my head are... disturbing, to say the least. The sort that i wouldn't be allowed to talk about on here, understandably. And i guess what is annoying me right now, is i can't seem to express that, can't seem to put across the words that explain how bad the feelings are. I feel like i want to scream, want to pour those emotions onto the page, but all thats coming out is a whisper. It seems like nothing, and maybe it is nothing. I just know right now, all i can think about is finally killing myself.