some people
really fuck up my sleep cycle. anger isn’t healthy for my dreams. i feel like…i don’t even know. impotent. it’s amazing how one comment can turn me from feeling omnipotent to impotent in .0000537 seconds. grr. i can’t take this anger out on the actual people that destroy my good moods, and i try really hard not to take it out on myself. it’s just pretty difficult to keep from lashing out sometimes. i can’t hold it in forever, though, so my dreams try to get me to release it. i hate sleep. i hate it i hate it i hate it. in nearly every true nightmare i’ve ever had, there is no external ‘monster’. i am the monster. i’m hiding under my own bed, waiting for me to fall asleep, so i can hurt myself. and it’s sick, really, because i know it’s not external. it’s me always me and i hate myself for it. hate me for terrifying me. what can i do about it? not a lot. not much at all. and it carries into waking life as well. am i just blaming myself for others’ shortcomings, or am i justified in my self-loathing? i feel justified. like i said, if i didn’t take it out on myself, i’d turn into some kind of monster. i’d rather be my own monster than someone else’s. grrrr. i wish i wasn’t such a pussy. oh well. guess it’s time for some more self-loathing. nightmare fodder? sure. why not.
