M
..and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
I've been awake for two weeks, and I feel more alive than I've been in 20 years of my existence. My once auburn hair has whitened greatly in recent days.
For the past 87 hours I've been calling people, warning humanity, trying to find support from anyone who will listen.
They just ignore me. Jokes. Laugh. "Right Jack.. I'm too busy right now, we'll talk later."
I already know what's going to happen, I'm filled with a maddening urge to peel open my skull and vomit the information from my mind, it's destroying me.
All the pieces are coming together around us, a million stories unfolding at once, and I'm starting to see the beginning of it. At last, the pull of greed reels in the inevitable break of our grossly flawed constructions.
My message brings nothing except the comfort of knowing I still care. In the end, it won't matter.
I left my family, school, girlfriend, friends all behind, sealed myself off from previous lines of communication over three weeks ago.
So do I sit back and watch the nightmare unfold, or split open this cranium of mine and let the unwanted truth of reality spill free?
To think, I could slip down to the subway at the drop of a hat. Such a sweet embrace, diving headfirst into an oncoming train. In perfect form, shoulders high, lungs fat, sucking in my final breath of stinking air.
It's all a mistake.
I've been awake for two weeks, and I feel more alive than I've been in 20 years of my existence. My once auburn hair has whitened greatly in recent days.
For the past 87 hours I've been calling people, warning humanity, trying to find support from anyone who will listen.
They just ignore me. Jokes. Laugh. "Right Jack.. I'm too busy right now, we'll talk later."
I already know what's going to happen, I'm filled with a maddening urge to peel open my skull and vomit the information from my mind, it's destroying me.
All the pieces are coming together around us, a million stories unfolding at once, and I'm starting to see the beginning of it. At last, the pull of greed reels in the inevitable break of our grossly flawed constructions.
My message brings nothing except the comfort of knowing I still care. In the end, it won't matter.
I left my family, school, girlfriend, friends all behind, sealed myself off from previous lines of communication over three weeks ago.
So do I sit back and watch the nightmare unfold, or split open this cranium of mine and let the unwanted truth of reality spill free?
To think, I could slip down to the subway at the drop of a hat. Such a sweet embrace, diving headfirst into an oncoming train. In perfect form, shoulders high, lungs fat, sucking in my final breath of stinking air.
It's all a mistake.