I stood naked in front of the mirror for about six hours today. Tracing fingers over every scar, every crisp wound.

I don't think I look too much different.

Yet that does little to actually help figure out why I can't bring myself to slit throats like I used to.

And now the man with crooked arms keeps appearing in the corner of my room.

Father's basically disowned me. yay...

And everybody seems to be falling even further into madness all around me.

And to that effect, I've gone back to beating my head quietly against the wall because simply put, I'm losing control of my emotions and actually acquiring bullshit feelings towards people...

Well... I'm going to go back to carving operator symbols into every tree I pass.



Who Who, Hoo Hoo.

It doesn't ever really stop raining here.

Sucks because I rarely if ever have a roof over my head.

Not that it's a bad thing necessarily, in fact it gives me plenty more time to get lost amongst the trees.

There are ALOT of trees here.

And sometimes I think I see Him. Watching me from the corner of my eye.

Makes me smile and feel a tad bit special.

But I feel other eyes on me as well.

Making it really goddamn hard to try and actually sit down and concentrate on fleshing out the details of the last few months.

Every day I feel like I'm forgetting that much more.

And it sort of freaks me out.

Like soon I'm going to wake up and not even have a fucking clue as to who the hell I am.

Then the man with crooked arms will take me again.

And I would very much like for that to NEVER happen again.