Sick Comfort
January 11, 2003, 11:34 PM

I'm sitting here with music playing in the background and I have nothing to do but sit with thoughts rolling over and over in my mind. I wish I nknew where people were, I do hate pointless waiting at times.

One ofthe most for front thoughts is that of putting a gun to my neck and pulling the trigger (not unlike the part of Shawshank) yes the though of the bullet blasting up through my major artriy, through my brain, through my skull, and out the wall. Or a good though of being slamed against the wall and a bullet put through the base of my skull. The blood smatering everywhere, and the moment of quick yet horried pain, that might last for as long as my dead broken body wishes to hold it.

Well I'm sure that sounds like I right awful though, but it's bringing me great comfort to think about it, as I try to fight back every urge in my body to either cry or find a way to carry the thoughts out. I have great comfort in thinking these thoughts, and as sick as part of my brain knows it is, I don't want the thoughts to go away. I think I need to face the facts that have been swimming in my minds for the past many days... I thought I would be able to find better reasoning for what I see... but.... oh well, some time we all have to face facts.

So I will sit here with the music and my sick comforting thoughts, until... well I'll keep that thought to my little ____self.

Later Days,
Blaze

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