...lETS mAke SOMEthing UP on the Spot.

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Joined: 18 Apr 2011
Age: 38
Gender: Male
Posts: 20

05 May 2011, 8:30 am


They're dead, they're all f*****g dead and so am I. I'm at the edge of town being a citizen one last time, obeying the speed limit and putting on a smile. f**k you, and f**k you too, here's my grin saying f**k you. I don't want to leave.

It's that dream. The dream was never the experience, it was this feeling, that they are coming after me and there's nowhere to run. I didn't kill them. They pressed my emotions, they ruined my life, and I responded. I acted out naturally. Just a few hundred years ago I would have been encouraged to fight for my well being and honor. I'm a supressed animal like the rest of these f***s.

Only two more stops till the highway, gas and food. Every flickering light is spiking adrenaline in my veins. I can feel them behind me. Maybe I'm ok. It will take at least 10 minutes for them to respond to gunshots, that's where I"m at now. 10 minutes away from those gunshots. How long before they know who I am, and what I'm driving. I have nowhere to go.

I'm an average citizen on an average night. They know nothing. If I can just stay calm, neutral. "Fill it please, regular". I'll get food later. 300 miles in the tank, west. West down the canyons and through the redwoods. West until the road ends.

Here I am exploding inside of the most perfect night. It's dark and warm, the road is dry, the moist plant world lights up in my headlights. I love this drive, I should have taken it more often. For no reason other than I could. I could have got away, started any life I wanted. But they trapped me.. I trapped myself. I didn't see an exit. But there's nowhere to go now.

The lifeblood of this planet is showing. I can see the mist, I'm all out of west. I can't die in a car crash, it's too unpredictable. That damn gun isn't big enough to use on myself. I would wake up with a hole in my head, in handcuffs, being cared for by people who knew what I've done. I would have to face them as they make me comfortable with their drugs. Universal compassion with the taint of contempt. My only hope would be that I was braindead, that those things that leaked out my skull were the bad parts. Take care of this body, it was good before the world ruined my head. I should write that down, so kids kicking over tombstones would have something to read.

I have nowhere to go. I have noway to die, I can't take long suffering and pain. Even if my inaction will cause it anyway, I can't do it myself. Dieing slowly conscious in a pool of blood or prison? They are the same. I need it quick and painless. So run, run with that dream feeling that foreshadowed the end of my life. On the run with the world after me. Death's door sounds like heaven right now. I need to find it.

This looks like a good spot. I should get out and look around, but first make sure they cant see this old piece of s**t from the road. Go touch the ocean.

It doesn't feel good anymore. I don't feel connected to the world, I'm not picturing what's on the other side of this ocean. Under my skin is solid rock. But I'm not out of west because that boat is the most amazing thing I've ever seen, in this afterlife at least. Is that how I see this now? I have to shake this terror off, it creeps up when things calm. Its my mind telling me my baseline is gone, that I'm in danger and must act. The harbor is a public place, I've taken my camera out at all hours without question. Its just down the road.

Look at me fishermen, I'm a thoughtful artistic person taking pictures of your daily life. I'm not looking for a ride. He can't see the other end of the dock, there are no other lights on. This white one, CHARLIE. It looks small enough for a first time ocean hermit. Gas and food lifted from the fancier boats, they won't miss it. I know someone will miss CHARLIE though.

I guess you can't really secure a boat too well. The dash pulled out easy and those 3 wires were the same as any car ignition. I don't see anyone, so noone saw me scrape the dock. This thing steers like a boat.

West and more west.

I wish I didn't have to rip out the navigation unit. I hope there's nothing else hidden. It's no different than 3 days ago. I keep seeing them behind me, only on a boat with 5 armed men. Heading towards me, the blipping dot, with their radar. They found my car for certain. CHARLIE was kidnapped. But I'm taking care of him.

I'm crazy. I've always known that, many people have said it. Confirmed my suspicions. Crazy people go to a different jail, they get drugged and locked in. I would be alive, feeling pleasure where I could find it. Chemically subdued and physically constrained, no different than last year and the year before. Only the box will be smaller, and the drugs stronger. Happiness is in the ratio.

PTSD, intense guilt, delusions, self harm.... I could randomly freak out and start crying. Walk in circles and talk nonsense. Did you hear they killed Osama? I read it on today's paper. I will remind everyone with complacent words at random. Relive moments of the day I killed them, and they killed Osama. That's probably a disorder, right? I have time to plan my insanity. Thank you CHARLIE. I'm going to get some rest now.

(PS: I'm not homicidal and never will be. Just wrote train of thought based on the feeling of being wanted by police. That has always terrified me. )