Rantings and ravings

1

Dear you,

Sometimes, I feel like I'm in a steel cage. Not in the typical sense, where the walls are expressionless and the air talks to you, but in the way that the floor weeps and the sky opens up and expels a thousand tiny centipedes on your skin.

Of course, it's all in my head...but that's the problem you see. I'm trapped in my own mind, and the door yells at me and the windows play hide and seek. But I suppose it's all my fault.

For being the way I am, that is. I've heard from many that I'm intolerable. But that's okay, because I still have you to talk to. I told She-who-shall-not-be-named this but she yelled at me and told me to get off the phone. But that's ok. She hadn't been the same since the accident. I've been told that opening up to a complete stranger is okay. I dunno. I'll go now.

Till death do us part,
Rosemund Pike