'Il fumo crea un'elevata dipendenza, non iniziare'

I just awoke in a sweat. Dana needs to go home- 1 a.m. and she's late. She's occupied my day from after work 'til then, and I have no time to even write a little bit anymore, let alone contemplate my past. My journal from Italy is starting to get embedded in between a stack of papers, bills, DVD's and pictures. I wonder if I'll ever get to it. Funny how it's taking me so long to do this when that was my goal in the first place. If I've ever wanted to face my own demons, now's the time, but it seems... well, that they don't want to face me, but rather keep plugging away at the subconscious walls of my mind and soul.

So I'm going to just open the book, and see what that brings. Maybe starting from the start is in too much a sequence, and maybe that won't bring anything to surface.

Pg. 110
December 3rd, Wednesday '03

"I feel like I am stuck in a dream. No, more like a twisted nightmare. All the shit I didn't want to happen, did in fact happen. I am not finding myself very content...errr...happy. I'm losing my grip. I am losing my edge, even though I was dull to begin with Sanity is so far away."

December 4th, Thursday '03

"I need to sleep more... my stomach is sick, my mind is ill, my will is shot, weak, andunder-fueled. Still I feel no hope in salvaging my year, and even salvaging myself. Fears, pain, solace and quake inside me. The warning light is red, and the tension I feel is crushing my bones. I shiver, and my stomach turns. I can feel a throb in my head begin to pound. All is lost, and my strength has failed."

On the next page is a small thumbnail of art I made called Death Within Smoke. Ironically there is a cigarette card that came in a pack of Marlboro smokes- One side talks about the blend of tobacco and how the taste is so great, and the other side says 'Il fumo crea un'elevata dipendenza, non iniziare'.

I can't help but read the next page, but then there is another time for that.