I wish I could figure you out.
Until I fall asleep, my mind is mine to control.
DON’T TOUCH!” —Cell, Stephen King
Thanks for the sentiment anon. But you’re still anon. It’s no skin off your nose to say that. There’s no risk in anonymity, and unfortunately not as much sincerity. I’d turn off the anon option, but I feel like that would just dissuade people from messaging me altogether…
I want to be chased. I want to be pursued. I want to have the option of saying no. I want somebody to want me enough to do something about it. I’ve always been the one pushing things, convincing, persuading that I’m worth somebody’s - anybody’s - time and effort. I’m getting tired of chasing. It’s a lot of work for no results. But if I don’t chase, I won’t have anything at all.
Dreams are tricky things. Sometimes they show us what we want most, sometimes what we fear more than anything. Sometimes they mean nothing at all. Whatever else they may be, dreams are inescapable. Most people don’t think of them that way. Most people aren’t tormented with glimpses of the metaphorical lottery every night. They’re usually different but she’s always in them. Every night for the last two months. It’s driving me crazy. I’d say get out of my head but I’m afraid of how empty it would be. I’ve found myself actually avoiding sleep, staying up far past the point of simple fatigue. Simple distractions don’t work anymore. Some of the more distracting activities are beyond my reach while I’m living at home. I can’t even be angry because I’m the only one who’s fucking with me. Fuck you, mind.