Sentence first, verdict afterwards

So I've somehow managed to make it to Wednesday... and I have no idea how. I find that my mind has been shattered. The looking glass is no longer whole, and I cannot pick the pieces up lest I wish to cut myself. All that I'm waiting for right now is the seven years of misfortune.

... Who am I kidding, it's already started, it did a long time ago, but I didn't want to see. I don't want to see. People are acting weirder in school now - though how do I know if it's just in my head or not? They might be acting normal for all I know, in fact, so many things in my life might just be illusions... I'm finding it harder than ever to discern the truth from the lies. The lies which my head makes up.

I'm... overusing ellipses so much. I'm sorry for my incoherence, I'm sorry for my random bursts of anger and my "inappropriate" behaviour. It's never been this hard to control before. I'm afraid that if I continue to write, I'll just become even more pitiful, or worse - I'll start rambling nonsense again.

THEY'RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY

Remember when you ran away and
I got on my knees and begged you
not to leave because I'd go berserk?
Well! You left me anyhow and then the
days got worse and worse and now you
see I've gone completely out of my mind.
And,

They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa,
they're coming to take me away, ho ho, hee hee, ha ha,
to the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time
and I'll be happy to see those nice young
men in their clean white coats and
they're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!

You thought it was a joke and so you
laughed, you laughed!
When I had said that
losing you would make me flip my lid - right?
You know you laughed, I heard you laugh,
you laughed, you laughed and laughed, and then you
left, but now you know I'm utterly mad.
And,

They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa.
They're coming to take me away, ho ho, hee hee, ha ha,
to the happy home, with trees and flowers and chirping birds
and basket weavers who sit and smile
and twiddle their thumbs and toes
and they're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!

I cooked your food, I cleaned your house
and this is how you pay me back
for all my kind, unselfish loving deeds? Ha?
Well, you just wait--they'll find you yet,
and when they do they'll put you in the
RSPCA you mangy mutt!
And,

They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa.
They're coming to take me away, ho ho, hee hee, ha ha,
To the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time
and I'll be happy to see those nice young
men in their clean white coats and

They're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!
To the happy home with trees and flowers and chirping birds
and basket weavers who sit and smile
and twiddle their thumbs and toes
and they're coming to take me away, ha-haaa!

To the funny farm, where life is beautiful all the time
and I'll be happy to see those nice young
men in their clean white coats and
They're coming to take me away!

First club meeting...

... of the year that is.

I couldn't concentrate, couldn't have any fun. The photographs I took were all either blurry beyond reason, or contained no birds at all. No one except for Andreas seemed to notice anything being out of the ordinary with me, but he didn't ask me about it. I guess I'm glad he didn't, I don't know what I'd say.

... Looking back...

Seems like I flipped out a lot yesterday and... I'm still not feeling so good, but at least... at least I'm almost positive that I've taken my medication today. I feel sick whenever I gaze back at those entries or comments, it's like all of my cynicism just explodes... I don't mean to sound invidious but there's little I can do when my mind gets like that. I just lose control.

And to think it's all because of Mary... hah, well, maybe I'm not as emotionless as I first thought. I hate writing in this blog since what good does it do? Mary is withdrawn, the only reason as to why I created this blog, but I estimate it's not too bad of an idea to write here just to get things off my chest.

All I can do is to wait and hope that Robbie will do something...

This is just dandy

I was outside today, walking in the woods because that is what I do. Yes. I thought it to be a good idea, a splendid notion, in fact.
There were no snakes on the path, I was quite glad to find out. Oh one could say it was a wonderful day with birds chirping in the trees and I even saw a squirrel run across the grass, just like in a Disney cartoon.

But the birds that were singing weren't... only the normal birds, there was another, different song coming from the trees but I could never pinpoint its direction. I came to this river deep in the forest, a place I've rarely been to before, where I found something lying on a rock. It was a bird skeleton and it looked like it had recently been put there... and it looks disturbing.
Picture of the skeleton
Perhaps I'm reading too many things into this thing but Mary's fucking missing, or so it would seem but maybe she's just in a cottage somewhere on a vacation and just never bothered to tell anyone not even her goddamn boyfriend, singing that annoying song from Snow White together with dwarves and deer with a shrill voice that investigates into your brain like a FUCKING NEEDLE OH FUCKING HELL.

The cherry on the top, the icing on the cake, the whipped cream on top of the mashed potatoes (oh yes, we do say that in Sweden, we do, we do indeed yes siree Bob you slob) is that my hallucinations are so fucking intense that I find it hard to even write this. Perhaps you can't notice it because I still retain enough intelligence to have my sentences make enough sensibility... sensibility? I have no fucking concept if this is right or askew but oh hell I presuppose that I have forgotten to take my medicine or perchance... I have but I don't know for I can precisely remember how I took the bottle out of the dishwasher but you don't put the bottle in the dishwasher so was it just an illusion or was it contrariwise I felt the pill on my fucking tongue I felt it

Mary

I haven't heard anything from Mary since she made the entry about going out to search for Roc. Not a single e-mail. Nothing. Maybe it's too early to get worried, but I saw Robbie's comment on her blog, and I can't help but worry because of everything that's happened. I don't want to think that there's someone... or something in the forest out to get her. I guess I don't want to believe that there's anything in there that can harm a human. I practically grew up in the forest, we made field trips to the forests around here in school, and I often played in it when I was younger too. So I've never been afraid, even when I've been spooked by seeing a snake once or twice, I've always returned eventually.

And they taught us to hug the trees if we got lost. I never understood why, I guess it was in order to make ourselves feel better, but I always thought they wanted us to hug the trees because they were lonely.

I don't want Mary to hug a tree, I wish she would reply and come back home. I feel so worthless, being on the other side of the ocean.

There's not one single thing I can do...

...

Today has just been awful. I kept seeing things, kept hearing things - knockings, like someone was trapped inside the walls, whisperings and laughter - and feeling them. Their many hands grabbing my shoulders

and I can hear it even now. There are some sounds I can't positively make out, but it's bothering me, scraping the surface of my brain and there's that smoke smell again-- but I can't differentiate it from the true scent, I can't tell if it's absolute or not so I'll have to walk around the house to make sure zero is on fire.

Some of the boxes are still unpacked. I feel as if something will disappear if I unpack them.

I've met Kafka

It's not every day one finds a song about Kafka, so I was quite happy when I found this. I've been listening to it over and over again.

I even went to translate the lyrics in Google Translate (since I don't know German, and can only recognise a few words), which means there are some odd sentences here and there, but at least I can understand it better now.

I've met Kafka

on the Charles Bridge in Prague.

No one else has recognized him

it was daylight.

He said Prague is unclean

a nest full of insects.

I think it was the cars

to him so frightened.

He wants to return to Berlin

which he liked better

but he says: Prague does not let go.

This little mother has claws.

I've met Kafka

still on the run

before the verdict of his father

which struck him with full force.

The desire for dirt

often drives him to the brothel

But the whores of today

are to him professionally.

He wants to return to Berlin

which he liked better

but he says: Prague does not let go.

This little mother has claws.

I've met Kafka

He is a lonely man

but he says: "I do not give up

I too shall die someday.

He has false teeth

from biting the desk

and more often he feels like

to throw in front of the train.

He wants to return to Berlin

which he liked better

but he says: Prague does not let go.

This little mother has claws.