Summer Journal #1 (COMPLETE)

Goner, Loner, Luisifer

All three of those I am. Yes I have friends and family, and yeas they care for me. But all of them aren't me. All of them have a basic sleeping schedule. All of them have something I don't. All of them have better things to do. All of them have more social able and interesting people to talk to. None of them are insomniacs like me. They don't lay in bed for seven hours trying to fall asleep and then wake up after sleeping for an hour. None of them are bored out of their mind when night falls. None of them have to worry about what happens to them in their dreams, none of them have to give a crap about their mental state when they have nothing to distract them. I've tried music, I've tried reading, I've tried twiddling my thumb. I've even tried sleeping and meditating, the only thing that keeps my sanity is talking to people. If I am away from people for to long, I lose my mind. It's only happened once, but I was alone for two days, no one to talk to, no internet, I couldn't sleep. In my dreams, my inner sel- my blurryface shows up in my dreams. When I sleep, I rarely ever dream, and when I do, I wake up instantly. I don't like dreaming because I see what I could be if did the things I want but shouldn't. In my dream last night, I stayed asleep, I was too tired to wake, so I had let it take control. I was at a church, it was someones funeral. We were in prayer closing our eyes, I looked up and silently went to look in the coffin. The body wasn't there, there was just dust. All the sudden a thunderstorm started and lightning struck, making everything dark. I had lit a candle, eventually finding myself engulfed in the flames, but not hurt. I controlled the fire, my dream had cut off there and went somewhere else, where I was killing people. Hearing the sound of cold steel ripping warm flesh apart. I was killing everyone, but the thing that got me in my dream was that, they were volunteeringly letting me kill them. The dream cut off there again and it went back to the church, though it looked as though it was burning down. In the church the cross was still up and on the cross wasn't some clay model of Jesus, it was me. I was on the cross, I had the nails through my hands and feet. I was wearing the thorn crown, I was the crucified one. Blood started dripping down my nose and eyes and mouth and ears. And then I woke up.