( This was a followup dated 2005 autumn, after the other post, one of few salvaged from my old diary )

Thinking my last post over, discussing it with my friends, and answering their questions leaves some more things that I feel I need to answer. This post is harder, since it requires more thought, more careful consideration than the last one. The last one, was just recital, or in part. Many details slipped my mind, passed me by, and so I failed to really paint the whole picture.

Even afterwards the thing that happened is real. The torn bodies, mutilated faces, the feeling of tissue ripping in my hands and fingers. It's all here with me now that I'm calmer. I have to consciously evaluate every single impression and memory I have, if I am to consider what is "possibly real" and not. I cannot tell. Most probably the faces of people weren't really leering, drooling masques of poorly hidden fascination mixed with disgust. But, how can I know?

The other thing is the complete betrayal of my own mind. For long periods afterwards, I'm completely unable to trust my own mind, my own perception. I cannot trust my own emotions about things, because they change every few seconds, roller-coasting through dread, anger, love, fear, apathy, tear-stained eyes and shivers of unease. I cannot trust my own thoughts, because they have just betrayed me completely.

Then there is the question about continuity. There is none. I'm completely, totally, caught up in the current of emotion. The flooding river where I'm trying to hold myself from drowning in the violent and bloodstained
waters all around me. The faces of people, real or imagined rushing by. I'm unable to reason for more than half a thought before being interrupted by something that pushes into my mind, another thought, another fear, anger, a throb of my head, my ear, the tingle in my fingers. Anything, everything. I am at this point unable to keep a single thought up. My legs move automatically, pushing me through town and onwards. There is no sense. There is only now. I only struggle to keep some kind of grip, some kind of control.

I should probably elaborate further. I'm not sure whether this is hallucinations or not, it feels more as if my emotional reality, the overwhelming force of anguish, anger, panic, dread, fear, hatred and icy passion penetrate my mind completely, colouring what I perceive from the inside, painting it with an overlay of reality that is more than what is out there. That is stronger, more vivid. With each look at something it is not only the vision of it, but the complete sensory input. I feel bones crack beneath my feet, I taste the charred hair, I smell the guck in their lungs burning. It's all there. At once. And I'm unable to filter it out, away, or make sense of it, because my normally rather "rational" mind is completely shattered beneath the assault and barrage on my mind.

So how do I deal with it? Guilt? Regret? -No. The people weren't "real" in that sense. I'm not even considering them as "people" at this point. However, there is distrust, insecurity, uncertainty as I try to collect my mind.

Which is worst? Being in there, or afterwards, looking through the shattered remains of my mind and intellect? This is impossible for me to answer, since the two just cannot be compared. For emotional barrage, the first wins hands down. There just isn't any way to compare it. However, the attack leaves me completely exhausted, every reserve of energy is burned out of my body. I am hollow, wrecked, empty and without resources to start collecting my mind, or any kind of stability to work from. I have to keep acting for a while longer, push myself to find something edible, or I'll collapse even deeper down into the emotional barrage of a shaking body, cramping, fuelling itself by injecting adrenaline bursts.