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I'm SSS

smart sociable sleep deprived

Don't speak, I know just what you're sayin'
So please stop explainin'
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts
Don't speak, I know what you're thinkin'
I don't need your reasons
Don't tell me 'cause it hurts

I slept for long hours and then it hit me.
Maybe we romanticized suicide in our teens not as a fleeting moment of madness in the commercial culture, and not entirely out of youthful spite, being frowned upon and not desired anywhere when things mattered in our formative years?
Maybe we did it because we knew what was there for us?
Maybe because we knew that some of us would become the main vehicle for aggressive wars, some of us would become its victims, some -- refugees, some -- unwanted exiles...

Maybe that's why there was such a overwhelming feeling of "let's end it now, while we are young, while we still CAN"?
I would never know the answer because I could not.
I chose to stay.
Bullshit.

I'm not one of you.
Since young age it troubled me, it burned me from the inside

Even when I didn't understand who you truly were.
As I said, I was weird from the onset.
"I wish I were one of you" -- I wrote when I was 12.
"I'm not one of you" -- I wrote when I was 18.

I am dull.
I am dumb.
I am fat and I am old.
I could've been good at your game, truly.
But the great Random decided otherwise.

I thought I would be able to forget, to escape, to scratch it, scratch it like an ash mark from my hand after cleaning my fireplace.
But I keep coming back to 2 things in my life to -- the one that used to be called by The Name and to this.
And my fate is to have my quiet evenings marred by insanity.

-- Once a great secret was revealed, it cannot be unknown.
-- But it can.
That's my take from today.

I woke up, it was 0401at the screen.

Fear.
Fear and focus, so familiar that I can sense the blood in my feet flowing slower to reroute more oxygen to the head.

Someone is out there. Something.
I almost remembered what it could be..
I froze in my bed, trying to hear it coming.

I was not able to sleep, almost as if I knew that it was dangerous to sleep.
Suddenly it came to me.
I remembered why I thought that all other problems were so small and insignificant.
It was all true.
It was all true.

Or was it?
Things once revealed to one can become unknown by him again.
They really can.