Gone To Seed

The last few days have been difficult, fading between fantasy and reality, two worlds colliding together like rotten melons... the stability is fading equally from both, as the cancerous thoughts pull us back and forth. I don't image things getting an easier for quite some time... my therapist is on vacation this next week, therefore I have nowhere safe to collect and ground myself. It's times like this, that I wish I could really understand emotions... how they swell and fade in nothingness as the needed information and stimulus are supplied. It's just a mass of vibrations swirling inside, ripping at my chest with deceitful unfamiliarity... I can feel something growing inside, and in fear I strangle it and grind it's fragile skull into the callous, cold concrete. Must. Rip. It. Out. I could set it aside, delete the images, and turn the other way... Richard would be pleased and the games could continue on schedule. What pleases one, infuriates the other, as the Choir sings in divided unison... every time I look in there, the swells of green, part of me screams in terror and the other swims in delight. There's life and death in those eyes, and for once it's not a mirror... but which price affords the prize, the summer embrace, the childlike cries.