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" Zygote Impersonator says:
My insanity has taken on more weight.
As has my girth.
I have officially worn out my coping skills.
Last night I almost killed myself.
Something's gotta change.
I'm about to run out of whatever rare luck I had.
Shit just got dangerous.
I should'nt be trying to fight this alone.
I'm not strong enough, or clever enough to outwit sheer impulse.
I wonder what I need to do to get some help. Realistically.
Do I havwe a
manic episode in a goverment building?
Do I bring knives, and actually fillet myself for them to take me seriously?
Does it really take my death for someone to want to help?4
"We could have saved her."
"Why'd she do it?"
It's insanity, all of it.
I shouldn't have to get to the point where I'm losing all hope in everything.
I'm quickly running out of excuses to stay alive.
I think that's frightening.
I'm gunna lose, if I don't find new tools to fight myself with.
Pissant suggestions are cruel, based upon ideas of people who've never woken up and thought that they needed to die because their existence was unwanted.
I need something. Something that speaks to me.
I need to get rid of my internet connection, me thinks. I would miss dearly the contacts I have.. but, this solitude at home is too much.
I'm there, 12/24 on the computer.
This shit can't go on.
At least I know I won't utterly lose you.
I fear for Joe. He would be so lost without me; I am to him what you are to me: an intellectual oasis.
I've already established that emails/letters aren't his thing. Sad.. but.. what do I do, really?
I fear the crash I'll experience the first month sans-internet.
I feel delicate as is.
I'm killing myself with this internet addiction. The shock of losing it might harm me.
It needs to leave, if I am to survive.
I need to be able to read at home, or go outside.
I need to kill my flow of TV shows.
I need my brain back.
I'm all adamant about it now, but, tomorrow?
Who know.s
I'm scared of being alone in my house, no friends to tap in to off-hours; it's a reality rfegardless, because my net friends suddenly have lives that outweigh their internet time.
No internet, no craving. The computer could go back to being a typing tool.
A CD player.
I'm scared that I'll hurt myself, not being able to know whether or not anyone good would be online whilst I'm freaking out.
What risk is greater?
My body is warping, my mind is dying. A month of abject hell, and I could be self-entertained again. Will I live though that month?
I wonder what level of Dante's Hell my breed of bullshit adheres to...
Bah.

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*DISCLAIMER
* WHO TF IS ALL THIS??!
* INTRO, 2
* NAQ

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Circa 2010