I don't want to think anymore. I just want to float and breathe free of cages.

I cannot see how being this unhappy is worth anything. If I am strong when I am angry, then why must I become angry at everything? I am everything that is made of iron but it is all melting from the inside out.

If my life is an endless amount of to-do lists to go somewhere and be something, well then perhaps I would rather be nothing, and live on a street with no friends and prefer to isolate myself from all that experience has taught me. That to stop breathing at high altitudes is necessary, so that I will weigh less. I think I finally feel what those girls feel because I can control what I eat. Just enough to survive. That's all I'm doing anyway. Surviving.

How can I care? Or more like not care? I will do my job and not work towards anything. That is my plan. It is a good one. I will forget schedules and appointments and I will forget that all of this ever happened and instead remember only the flowers at dawn and the warm orange of eight o' clock light. I will not work towards anything. I will simply do this all to get through. Because once I push through, I will be dead. They cannot say I did not try if I am stillborn. But I will come into another world much different, much more aware of every felling of childhood trees and protect myself.

I want to purge myself of this dimension and explore the entirety of existence where God will talk to me and hold my hand as he points out each baby star. I am only a vessel that glides, but I would so like to be a rocket.