In my shoes.

I spent the past five hours watching comedy.

I cannot explain why I'm still awake. I cannot explain why I'm crying. I cannot explain why these ancient ghosts still follow me around, whispering in my ear, not even bothering to disguise themselves anymore.

There is, as always, this overwhelming temptation to push everyone away, leave everything behind. To go someplace new, to start over, to sort myself out and deal with issues that I never felt were important enough to mention. To head for the hills, the seas, the dark corners.

The sleepwalking has started again. I'm afraid of seeking help. I'm afraid they will make me completely unpredictable, volatile and dangerous. So I spend a few nights each month soaking tissues because that's what I know how to do. Sometimes that makes me tired and I fall asleep and when I wake up I don't have the luxury of sitting with the ghosts anymore, so I get through another day.

But I have nothing to say and don't know what I'll do.

AnRu reminisced at 6:17:00 AM.