"Our existence deforms the universe"

"Our existence deforms the universe. That's responsibility." -- Delirium

Tonight it was just me and Delirium for a little while, just me and the silence and that was a good thing and maybe it was what I needed all along. And I read and I read and then I drew a nice picture with butterflies and fish and then Carrie laughed and I threw it across the room. And then I cried and she got defensive and I felt a little lost and that was that.

I think I'm going to have Delirium tattoed over my heart. A Delirium fairy, with butterfly wings and a fish on a string. And one green eye and one blue eye and multicolored dreads and maybe even the Borghal Rantipole peeking around the corner. Why? Because that's what it feels like all the time these days, like Delirium is flitting above my shoulder, the way someone else once did a long time ago when things seemed normal and my world was not upside down, when Delirium was still Delight. Before the fall.

Maybe Jeremy and Matt were right when they agreed. I don't want to talk about it. It made me feel like shit. Maybe they were right and all this time I've just been tricking myself into believing that I've got it all figured out and that someday I'll save myself from all this and the world will be okay again. And maybe they knew something I didn't, something that would have saved me from me if I knew what I needed to save and why I needed to save it.

I want to share a hotdog with Death. I want to share a hotdog and maybe a taxi ride because she's nothing but a friend these days and I have nothing to fear, right? Maybe that hotdog will be the last and there was nothing really wrong with Didi's heart and one day could last forever.

Or maybe I'm crazy.

I feel like I've lost those last little semblances of things that mattered, like all that stands between me and the fall are mere trinkets of things that shouldn't matter but do ... that shouldn't hold me the way I let them. And maybe one of these days I'll feel like I can come back from The Summer From Hell unscathed, putting all this behind me.

Maybe I won't need the drugs anymore. Maybe I'll sleep again. Maybe I'll take the car out for a drive and never come back. Or at least for a very long time, until my thoughts are sorted out and my heart is back in my hands and not hovering over my shoulder in the arms of a fairy who lost everything and only remembers that somewhere there are fish and one time she had a dog.

That's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going driving. With levity even. I think I'll say it over and over again until it makes sense in my head, like maybe Lonewolf had it all figured out and that it's all loneliness and levity, even when you're surrounded by people and walls go up and a part of you dies. A very integral part of you.

And if I didn't think that this mattered, if I really treated this like a diary like it was supposed to be, then I'd say things like, "I just wanted the damn answers," and "How did I end up here?" and "Oh God I need help." But people always get scared, like I can't take care of myself because sometimes I really can't, but I think I can tonight -- if somebody holds me down and tranquilizes me and gets my brain back into gear.

I should take a Klonopin. All the excitement is a little too much for me to bear. I think I'm going to be sick.

Goodbye.