They all hunt me. It's dark in this realm, but how can you hide in shadows from shadows? It seems as though a little piece of me is consumed each time I come in to contact with them, leaving me empty, hollow, one step closer to becoming one with those monsters. That doesn't mean I've had no success, through tricks and games, or force of will, some days I can welcome in a victory, or at least a stalemate. They turn my weapons against me, but in turn I turn their own against them. How can they kill what is dead, or hurt what is never not hurting. Sometimes darkness is the best weapon against darkness, if I have no value, then nothing they can take from me matters. Maybe that's recklessness, or at least it would be if I could get to that point. But I can't. I'm a twisted, depraved individual, but I have my limits, and I'm not sure these monsters do. And I'm not even sure if not caring is a victory for me, or merely another way they can attack me. I don't care about so much, but I care about not caring. But those things that I do care about, withering away, are still the only reason I try at all, even though the moment that they are snatched away is the moment that induces pain like no other. It's all metaphors, I know. Sometimes it's easier to personify things, to attribute purpose and thought to thoughts and emotions which are simply in themselves a part of me. Inside I feel most lucid, but perhaps outside seem most crazy when I do so. It's a realization I've come to, that most people don't quite understand that in me... which sounds like a childish statement to make. The more difficult I am finding my life, the more I talk in abstracts and constructs, which allows me to put some distance between me and the areas of my struggle that I'm not capable of dealing with at the time. I'm not being evasive from anyone but myself when I do so. I spend a lot of time alone now, partly for that reason. I sit alone in chat a lot, struggling to get myself to communicate. And I know I've come across badly to many people because of that, not providing expected reciprocity in conversation, or sometimes simply not paying attention to chat at all, only coming back to find people having come and go. I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for a lot of things in truth, and how I've treated a lot of people. There are some debts I'll never repay, wounds that have long gone past healing. Though there are no delusions of grandeur in that statement, I know to most I'm no-one really. The worst thing, is I know the best I can ask for is forbearance. Some days I'm dancing with the demons of my mind (thank you Sweden), some days I'm being pummeled by them, and it's very rare now that I am as free as I can be of them. The simple truth is I'm not okay. But worse than that, I'm not okay to be around. There's a big mental conflict there, the desire to be close to people, with the recognition that I'm neither worth that, nor is it in the best interest of anyone else to be close to me. So I run, and hide, and withdraw easily, because I feel that's less hurtful than letting anyone too far in. I've trashed too many personal relationships because of that, and my thought process at that time is very irrational and unreasonable. It's one of the things I don't think I blame myself enough for, I've been hurt by people, but am less aware of how I've possibly hurt them. And that thought sends me in to another cycle of self doubt and hatred... am I somewhat psychopathic, if I'm not aware of those things, or am I paranoid, because I haven't hurt people in the way I think I have. Part of me wants to beg people not to run away, to try to ignore this web I tangle things in... but most of me says run. I don't even know where to go with this now, I fear I've triggered a further spiral of self loathing, finding new ways to attack myself. Maybe that's why I prefer to let the demons do it for me. It's easier to have an enemy outside you, than to be your own enemy.