...that my body is after me.Â It's trying to get to me, I just know it.Â Back in my head, I've known it for quite some time, the constant ache in my hands and fingers is back, worse now, doing it's best to stop me from doing anything. Forcing me to atrophy, preventing coherent thought.Â My headaches, no, don't think about it, it's just the head trying to lock you in, make you not do things, again.
It's after me,Â the appetite thing, can't mean anything than that it's getting into another state, trying it's bloody well best to stop you from surviving. You know it, it's there. The proof. That thing with the sleeping, or the not sleeping. To drive you to the edge, the shakes, sweats and panics whenever you try to think clearly.Â Keep the brain dozed off so it doesn't figure it out.
But I got onto it, I know what it's after. Â Â Sweet and supple, make me long for it. I deny it. Feed my brain with coffee and milk, make it do things, stress it into action, into not being a passive victim. Oh yes, I'll show it.