I'm still in literal fear for my life...even though it was on Monday...or Tuesday...or something. I can't even remember all that well. This week has just been a medicated haze...if I didn't need the pills for control of the nausea and pain then I would have never taken them. I'm out of antidepressants and I'm much to freaked out to back to the psychiatrist.

It is a weird place to be...it feels like I'm almost dead and almost alive...this gray place between light and dark. There is a weird contradiction in me being here, being alive, feeling, thinking, processing when there is so much...anti-life...so much death at every possible intersection and corner of life.

It isn't dramatic when you stop to think that every word is a symbol and has meaning only in proper context and enunciation...it is a construct we invented to keep our sanity, just like time. We lord our man made constructions as being God like in order for us to hurt and press down on those we deem inferior.

Not being able to pronounce every word correctly, making spelling and grammatical errors...yeah, that makes you such a big shot. Makes me look ignorant and stupid, shows me as being the genetic mistake that I am.

Every ounce of academic knowledge you so desperately cling to...as if it were some grand and impervious defense...as much as you like to pretend you are something special, somehow bigger and better...you are absolutely nothing.

My memories, my pain, my emotions are something tangible. My experiences with the other is something tangible. Maybe not to you or to others but it is something.

Every last tear I have cried, every shred of my innocence ripped from my being, every last inch of my sanity that I have lost in this fight...all of them are real. Real as the grave markers that show where my dead family lay.