Murderous Expectations

Its simple enough i guess.

But i shouldnt make myself care any more. I have eight days left in this place, then its all over, this episode is all over, and a new one begins.

I dont let myself have expectations, so none can be broken, or exceeded. Its my way of keeping my feet on the ground.

Sometimes it takes something larger to shove things back into perspective. Like a drunk person holding a knife to you, laughing horrifically, telling you its your time, that they are going to help you out, make the decision for you.

You wouldnt care if they were special to you, but that particular person never is, they’r the sort you could easily give up, leave by the road side, and drive off without looking in your rear view mirror.

The one you want to kill you somehow never gets round to it.

i cant sleep, and though its not particualrly late yet, it bothers me. Im restless, i take migraine pills, even though i do not have a migraine right now.

It is hot, but dark, which is strange. Tropical. Something i dont often encounter. It feels like i should be outside, amybe on a beach, or a mountain top, looking through the trees at the sea, feeling the sand and dead grass under my feet, feeling the damp of the coming rain and mist. Feeling lost and wild and free and at one with the world.

Maybe i’d have a pet shark and a boat, just for fun. The sea water wouldnt be salty and it’d definatly never be cold. Always just right.

Going through my stuff and chucking lots out, i came across things i havent seen in years. Like old school work, from primary school. and character reports.

I came across pictures i drew, aged 7 or 8, pretty pictures of a brightly coloured world. A new world, an amazing and fun world.

i world i still – more or less – see now.

xXx