Melting, melting, melting, my mind melts and reforms itself again and again. The endless dance along the line between reality and fiction continues until I fall asleep once more. I feel as if I am being suffocated. The evil hands sprouting from my ears take hold of my throat and squeeze out all the air. Never in my life has my perception been clear. There will always be something off, a little speck on the lenses of my mental clarity that cannot even be scraped off. I dearly hope that it is over soon.
"You caused the hurricanes" "God needs you to create this" "God hates you and loves you" "By dying, you can be reunited with your real mother, your fox mother"
I do not understand any of these sudden, confusing thoughts running through my strained mind. My eyes protrude from their sockets. The blue light burns into my retinas and slowly damages them. Surely, I will be blind by the time I reach my 30s.
"Leave the house alone" -- I can't do that.
"Call someone by yourself" -- I can't do that.
"Speak up for yourself" -- I can't do that.
"Get a job in the real world" -- I can't do that.
"Comfort and love me" -- I can't do that.
"See the world the way I see it" -- I can't do that.
I shouldn't be so aggressive. I don't want to be aggressive. It hurts every time I am so aggressive, when I lash out at people behind a locked account, even moreso if I confront them. The vile words I spew spill forth from my mouth like a murky, corrupt ooze. I want to say this isn't me. I cannot accept the person I am at my worst is the same person I am at my best.
My fingers get more and more tired. Numbers mix inside my head as I attempt to calculate the price of a commission featuring yet another fetish that I could care less for. "It's good practice," I reassure myself, "I can hone my skills like this." I continue to repeat it in my head ad nauseum despite hands turning out twisted and lighting scattering every which way. And yet, the people who pay me hundreds have lowered their standards to rock bottom; I am sure this is only because they are as alone as I am.
I was raised thinking THE LORD will forgive me for all my sins and yet I sit here without a home or a father or a coherent sense of self. HE has put me in a living Hell as punishment for loving women and seeking a body that is neither female nor male. HE sincerely wishes I could be stoned to death. Unfortunately, the modern United States of America forbids this execution, so HE will have to make do.
And even now I sit here at the digital altar connecting me to all spirits known and unknown and I beg for his god damn forgiveness:
"Alleviate me of this horrible responsibility you have thrust unto me."