Scurred

I'm now quite terrified of my own mind. I've gotten so used to having the Internet occupying most of my mind at all times that I've become dependent on it. Normally, this isn't so bad. It just means that when I'm away from the Internet, my imagination goes insane, and I can't really focus on anything for too particularly long. That's okay, because it can make conversations interesting, and school nearly entertaining. Well, more like almost bearable. Still.

It's gotten worse this week. The problem is the the cycles that would normally be used by the Internet? They shut down when I sleep. But I can't sleep. When I lay down, unless I'm absolutely exhausted, those cycles are still running. That's why I keep the schedule I do. Because my brain won't shut up. But ever since the Picone thing, those cycles are all going to the same program. EVERYTHING IS POINTLESS. It's not even just those words. No, that would be easy. Every single aspect of my day, every day, is analyzed for just how pointless it is. And I can't stop it. I can't sleep because the cycles won't shut down. I've ceased being tired at night. I finally passed out for most of yesterday. I missed two classes. I'm now going to fail English Comp. Or, at most, get a C. Math 151 is already in the crapper. And there's no way in hell I can tell my parents any of this.

It is a terrifying thing to not be safe from your own thoughts. I'm freaking scurred.

I'm going to go try to close my eyes and sleep now. Hopefully I can write something that doesn't sound either insane or completely bollocks in the near future. If not, I hear those padded rooms are nice. I haven't blinked since I started writing this post.