Noise is too much, but quiet is maddening, people are too much but loneliness is swallowing me whole. I can't talk to my dogs, they look weird to me. Besides they need attention and don't realize their owner is nuts, terror stricken and not fit to live. Their needs are few but I keep thinking where I can put them or take them to when I finally go under. No one is near or can help me. My life is a goddam desert. It's my fault. I can't say anything outloud, my own voice is too much. Besides I sound strange. I am a freak. Days keep going by and I pretend each day it will be different today. But I clear my throat or cough and the noise startles me. I must be quiet. I have to walk on eggshells. All is fragile danger and madness. I am awkward in my movements; too uptight to take a shower, afraid to relax, afraid to get overwhelmed more. I mechanically do what needs to be done eventually, while I feel dizzy, watch myself walk across the room and do whatever it may be. And I think this is hell and why do I do it to myself if it is not an outside force. I'm going to say it here over and over because I won't say it outloud. I wish I was dead, I wish I was gone, I wish I had good reasons to explain why, and then deep down somewhere I get a rush of something that happened years ago and my head spins. I wish I could cry. Get mad, express it, rage, be loud, grieve, oh for Christ's sakes just anything! Be real. FUK THIS SH*T!!!!