A schizophreniac's diary

His mind was spinning out of control for some time now. He decided to write down what was going through his head because he thought it might help him, or some poor soul that might get assigned to look after him one day when he finally snaps.

Tuesday, some month of who cares what year

Sitting in a café surrounded by familiar people, something surreal was building up in my head; I felt that if I had let it go wherever it was going I was going to completely lose touch with reality. I don’t know how I stopped it. I tried to focus my thoughts rather than letting them fly off since that might have been too overwhelming. I don’t know if that did the trick.

Middle of the night. Wednesday morning.

Woke up feeling completely empty. Is this due to my emotional void or because this goddamned vacation was meant to help me and all it did was make me hate myself even more. I feel worthless, self-loathing and misanthropic. Instead of sex, drugs and rock and roll this turned into a self-critical journey to enlightenment. How pathetic.

Drive home. Thursday.

On the drive back I felt like crying the whole time, held back only by the social stigma about men that cry. What a macho man. Funny, I completely reject most of these stigmas yet I find my behavior being heavily influenced by them.

I had a dream that I met a very beautiful, older woman. If God had a gender and it appeared on earth I would imagine it looked like her. Her beauty so unimaginable that I felt my senses couldn’t even comprehend it. Her face, even though I was aware of its beauty, was invisible to me. However, her significance didn’t lie in her divine beauty. She understood all my pain and suffering without us even speaking. She took me to a secluded room, without a word, took her clothes off and pressed my head on her warm naked breasts. All my pain went away. It seems, however, that even in my dreams I am not allowed to be truly woe-free because I woke up before I was even able to enjoy this feeling left behind somewhere in my childhood. What I feel now is the uncertainty whether I will feel like that again because everything I know about this world and the people in it makes me think I won’t. However, how much about things outside of this world do I know?

Sunday morning. My head hurts.

I turned over and looked at her. She is beautiful, caring and ,my God, does she know how to use her body. I don’t give a damn about her.