Character: Aza

Thoughts - just another kind of bacteria that live in you.

"You feel a threat to themselves?" But where is the threat and I? I couldn't say that I'm not a threat, but did not understand to whom or what. Abstract blurred pronouns and additions in this sentence, non-linguistic funnel sucked the words.

I thought this cycle: I light the light of his bedroom, and he is the light of my. I saw Davis just because he could see me. We were lying in the granular silver light, and fear and joy of this being, it seemed that we really are not in their beds, and in some imperceptible place in the minds of each other. The proximity of bodies in real life could not be compared with this intimacy.

I want to know is there an independent "me"? The deep, true self that doesn't change the fact that if she has money or the guy, if she goes to one school or another. Or am I just a set of circumstances?

I grabbed clothes and went into the bathroom, took off all, dried them with a towel and waited until the body cools down. The floor was cold against her bare feet. I had my hair done, looked at myself in the mirror. My body I hated. Everything was disgusting - hair, pores, thinness. I wanted out of it - away from yourself, from thoughts, away! but I'm stuck inside, along with bacteria that colonized me.

In English this phrase, "be in love", it sounds weird, if love is a sea in which you drown, or the town in which they live. Nothing else - neither in friendship nor in anger nor in hope - you are not. It is only in love. And I wanted to answer him: though I didn't fall even once, I know what it's like to be in the feeling to be not just surrounded by, and permeated them like a God. When thoughts are twisted in a spiral, I'm inside, become part of it.

I knew what he - my thoughts were confused all my life, I couldn't even think of them until the end, because they came not in the form of lines, and in the form of entangled balls, resembled a quicksand, swallowing the light or wormholes.

I was disgusted with myself. Disgusting. But I couldn't myself to pull away because she's stuck inside.

I may be just a lie that you whisper to yourself?

I guess I just don't like that I have to live inside the body. If you know what I mean. Perhaps in essence, I'm just a tool that exists to convert oxygen into carbon dioxide. I'm just a body in this... infinity. And me to some extent appalling, I actually can't control your so-called I.

And although I laughed with them, felt like I was watching from the side, as if watching a movie about his life instead of live.

If the tablet is changing you, your deepest essence... this is not normal, right? Who decides what I am, - I or factory workers, producing a "Lexapro"? In me like a demon, and I want to expel him, but the idea is to do it through pills... don't know, she's weird. But I got it and not once saw a drug because I hate the demon.

I do not know. Well, I'm sitting in the dining room and start to think about how I have all these things, they eat food for me, and I'm, like, all of them are that I don't as many people as disgusting bubble teeming with bacteria. And I can't clean up, you know? Because the mud creeping up on me. That is, I can't find in the depths of himself pure and spotless part, the part where should be my soul. It turns out that the souls I have probably no more than bacteria.

He wrote about thoughts exactly as I was going through - for me it was not a choice but a destiny. No catalogue of consciousness, but the opposite.