Wouldn't it be nice? If I could melt myself like ice. Or outrun my skin and just be pure wind.

I am lonely. I am disconnected. I am I am I am I am I am

not

what I wish.

I need you. I need to feel something. I need to feel you?

I don't know that.

I wish I wish I wish J'espere beaucoup.

The emptiness aches with a weary dullness that never quite disappears.

Am I alive right now? I'm not sure. Can I feel love, anger, pain? Anything besides this everlasting disappointment, this melancholy submission.

I can't even rant and swear because that just takes too much effort. It makes it seem as though I care when i do not  could not. Even if I wanted to.

So I guess I'll just close the door then, and sketch the beauty which I cannot achieve. Once I am able to move I will work out. I will try to melt this parasite that has attatched itself to my body. I feel like I'm drowing in emotion. I feel like someone is choking me.

Perhaps it is time to draw pictures on myself in blood and pain. Dear scissors, come to me. Make me feel alive.

Elle