30th August – Mad

I think I am mad. There’s no way to really tell anymore. Maybe it’s the combination of a hundred nights’ bad sleep and endless work. Maybe it’s just a phase, I'm sure we all go mad at some stage, feeling strange emotions, anger, despair, extreme joy, giddiness and all the rest of the wonderful and horrible things that make up us.

Trouble is its hard to have this feeling of belonging when it seems that, after weeks of being on the up and down rollercoaster I've melted to some all time low, without much reason or purpose. It started i think about an hour ago, and unlike last time I’ve had absolutely no coffee. There seems to be some acid trails burned on my cheeks from where salt water has just sought pastures new, I know its warm in here but I am shivering and talking to no one.

Everything in the world seems so bright and cheerful and great, covered in bad things which are still somehow good, as more saltwater, this warm and much fresher, leaves some inner home I have for it but cant see. Everything seems so much better elsewhere, where I am not, I feel that people stop talking near me about normal things because I am there. People put up with me, but no more. They go to parties, fall in love, go on holiday, and enjoy the social life. I don’t know if I can do any of that anymore. Everywhere feels good but me. I feel stuck in some dark poorly lit room, but nothing but a screen and a keyboard for company. Oh fuck. I can’t imagine anyone else being able to live this way, anyone else that did, they could never live… never love again.

Most people think it’s slightly cool to be mad, more people wish they could understand mad people. Being mad is like having all of your senses swapped, nothing makes much sense, nothing seems to work for you, and the absolute worst part is that no one can ever understand how you feel.

There is no reason for any of this. I know also that putting something like this weird stupid entry by a strange idiot man on the net, in a book or even on a screen could lead to serious consequences or concerns, and I don’t care, because I want someone to think that they have even the slightest understanding of how shit I feel now. They cannot. Everyone else’s world seems so much brighter, I am good at reading and have not seen anyone whose summer seems to have been as woefully sad as mine.