Rape the afterthought

The words I'm reading on the inside of my cover are quite depressing. Thoughts, lyrics, quotes and the such, and most, like usual, are pretty dark. That seems to be the theme of my life back there... dark and depressing. Out of all of them, Rape the afterthought stood out. What am I doing disturbing the past, stirring up emotions and pain in the process? Memories are scary when they stare at you with such a glare that you can't keep looking. Maybe the afterthought is raping me, leaving me wholely shattered, but maybe that is what I need. Rock bottom is the first step up, even though falling there hurt.


So my fate is to eternally fight the shadow behind me. It's a match that is pointless and eternally active. I'm okay. I'm fine. I'm not. I'm tortured in my history. I'm tortured by my future. Remember that line in the Bourne Identity, where Jason Bourne says he doesn't want to know who he was, he doesn't care, he doesn't want to know any more? I feel that way, except I can't afford to hide, because that augments the problems I entertain. It's time to ignore the scribbling on the side that I wrote. In the end they all mean the same thing.

So I'll cooperate with myself...

.page one

august 23rd 2.15 am

Arrival at Lido after 55 hours of travel. I'm optimistic as fuck...

The moon seems to shine differently here. The question is if it is me looking at it in a new way or is it in fact something of a new moon, entirely fresh, or perhaps, an ancient entity [wtf?]? Because the stars are the same as before.

God, this shit goes on for pages. The my naivete I displayed is making me sick... I took quite a slide I'm not the same remote person. This has got to all be a joke.