Lost Random Chatter

that is how i feel - black edged with grey- not a uniform black, but patchy with layers and layers of peeling paint, and holes in the canvas....

something needs to be done- but i will not do it- i will force myself not to, although i know i need to- and i can- just a little push, one tentative stretch and I will be 'doing'....

- and that plunges me into such turmoil...

just for the sake of not having to do something that I don't even really mind doing, I have pictured attempting suicide- little red drops staining the duvet.. but there is always the mess, and that puts me off...
bulging eyes, bruises, the smell....
(besides my life is not supposed to end in this crummy room opposite cibo's; also the sane voice in my head is screaming in frustration, knowing all of this to be rather irrational and extreme)

Hamlet could be my alter ego- everything, everything, except in the doing...

and im sick to the pit of my stomach...
and i feel helpless-
i want to walk out and chuck everything, be a different person, just escape..

And yes, it strikes me that this is highly dysfunctional, and i wonder why....

there is not much to it- for once the easy way out is also healthy- but i continue being stubborn- resisting, resisting, and resisting all that in me that is fluid...

and i feel alienated- cos living seems to come so simple to most people...