#17p preview

When you spend enough time in your head, you realize how dark and how scary of a place it is. It connects you to people and it can also keep you from people. It can make you sane or insane. I think I'm at the border of the two, flirting with the line that separates it. See, in the state of mind I'm in, I think I get how the world works. I think I understand everything. 

Reality is a tangible thing. It means it’s been proven it exists, it’s tangible by either sight or smell or touch or science. Its juxtaposition is something that can’t exist. 

But if it’s been created, even in the mind, doesn’t that mean it’s alive in someway? Doesn’t that make it tangible? Doesn’t that mean that just because other’s can’t see it, but you can even in your brain, doesn’t that make everything real? 

And--and the juxtaposition to that is that if you stop believing, stop giving power to something, it makes it imaginary. If I hide long enough, people will forget me and I’ll slowly rot in this room. But only if I forget myself too. I can’t think of me anymore. 

To disappear I have to be nothing.

 I am nothing. 

The thought has me smiling without feeling anything, really. I sit on the floor, leaning against the bed as I stare out into nothing. There’s this giant hole head, but I’m too scared to look at the mirror to check.