I can feel myself slowly slipping back into the dark realm of self destruction.

I want all the things that hurt me, that maim me, that poison me. I struggle to control myself.

I fear that if I open up to someone, they will judge me and lose respect for me. I feel alone with no way out.

Eat some pills you fucking nuisance.

I don't like it when shadows move or when the floor hums with anxious energy. I don't like having pupils so dilated that my eyes look black. I don't like feeling like this is my only option.

Help me.

One of my new years resolutions is to stop thinking so negatively.

I don't want to feel like I'm breaking that resolution already, so I'll make myself feel better by saying that I think everyone has the right to vent feelings and that doing so does not make a person negative by default.

Now that that's out of the way, I have something to write out. Maybe if I get it out in writing, I will be able to make a bit more sense of it in my mind.

I keep running into the same barrier, almost like a leg hold trap that roots me to one spot, no matter how hard I strain against it. Defeat and acceptance soon follow, but then somewhere along the line I foolishly forget that it exists, because I get this sudden urge to move forward again. It's a neverending cycle and I haven't quite figured out how to break it. I think some of it is simply out of my control.

I'm talking mostly about situations in which I get struck with a great idea, or the drive to do something I have needed to do for a long time. Once an idea takes hold in my mind, it quickly develops into an obsession - that's just how it's always been.

My issue is usually money; more specifically a severe lack thereof. Motivation without means.

Even applying for work at this time is difficult because I don't have the means to print my resume - my printer is out of ink and my parents ignore that fact because they don't care and can't afford the refills anyway.

Dog training is a way for me to make a small bit of money, but finding clients (and actually working) depends entirely on the weather being cooperative. I don't remember the last time I saw the sun. I'd love to make some business cards to hand out to potential clients for when the weather actually does clear up, as it would make for a good impression, but alas, I can't afford to. Surprise, surprise.

I'm just getting a bit disheartened. I don't want to need money like I do, but that's what it's always come down to in the end.

I've been trying to figure out how to word this journal for a couple of days now.

I don't really feel like explaining all my reasons, (partially because I feel like maybe there aren't any concrete ones, anyway) but I'm probably going to drop off the face of the earth soon.

I don't know for how long. I just feel this all-consuming desire to be completely alone and not talk to anybody for a few days; maybe a few weeks. I had this feeling a little while ago too but didn't end up leaving the way I wanted to.

I'm not polite, not friendly, not myself. Just a stone hearted husk of the person I used to be. I care too much about the people around me to put them through the bullshit I'm dealing with - it's my cross to bear and I need to figure it out on my own.

I'm such a jerk lately, can't be fucked to give anybody the replies they deserve or engage in any sort of social activities whatsoever without feeling irritated and cornered.

I need to start this break now so that I have at least 5 days to myself before the holidays start. I don't want to feel like this for Christmas and I sincerely hope it subsides before then.

See you... Whenever I see you.

slinking through suburbia, afraid for it's life...

clambering over the fences in my neighborhood, following me, trying to warn me of something, but what?

a familiar gleam to those piercing green eyes, almost like we'd met before - and how we had, in so many ways.

impossibly large for such a setting to be sure; unlikely location and season... and yet there it was; 175lbs of sleek golden fur with rosettes the size of my fists. nothing could ever be more beautiful.

"why have you returned?"

it wasn't fear or anger that prompted my question; no. just an insatiable curiosity; a thirst for knowledge.

i may never know the answer.

Thoughts are like invisible parasites.

They plant themselves and immediately start to take shape in your mind; each one a little different from the next. Sometimes they are of your own creation; dreams, goals, what ifs and the like. More often that not, however, you pick them up somewhere. The process is not at all unlike that of catching a cold.

Oftentimes, these thoughts penetrate your delicate little mind and cause nothing but pain and devastation.

First, they latch on. Once they've made their entrance and your brain has allowed them to take on a basic form, this has already been achieved.

Next, they burrow.

With immaculate precision, they tear through the very core of what you thought you might have been, leaving you feeling nothing but an indescribable numbness. As they burrow, they feed on what you can no longer feel, becoming more and more powerful as they grow and learn all the ins and outs of your mangled psyche. They find weak points and loopholes, and nothing is sacred. They invade everything you had hoped was safe and secure in the confines of your mind. The parasites have no mercy, and their never ending hunger certainly does not discriminate.

As they eat away at your desire to fight back, your physical self follows foreign orders for the first time, and you begin to lose the incredibly important ability to distinguish between right and wrong; safe and unsafe. While your body and mind are running on separate scripts, the real you is locked away somewhere; the parasites forcing you to host - and watch - your own downfall.

After years of being helpless and unable to cry out, you give up. The invisible hierarchy has claimed another victim.

You have been taken over at last.