Saturday, March 10, 2012

Always with the running

He's following me.

Six times. Six times I've seen him today. Not going to stop tonight. Can't stop.

It just stands there by the side of the road. Suit and no face.
And there's a sound. That's not right because it's not really a sound. You know how really low bass, you don't so much hear as feel through your feet and your lungs? Or a really high pitched note you can feel in your teeth and behind your eyes more than you can hear it. And it doesn't have direction. Like a low-flying jet. It's coming from everywhere at once.

I just read that again. I'm not making anything even remotely fucking resembling sense.

He's there, outside. Watching. It's funny isn't it? He's watching. I know he's watching but he DOESN'T HAVE ANY FUCKING EYES. How can he be watching without eyes? I don't know. Drives me right up the bloody wall it does.
No one else can see him. It. It's just standing there out on the other side of the street.

How many do you think are in mental institutions? Because they can see it but no one else does?
This is what it feels like to question your own sanity, isn't it? And there it fucking is again and again that sound that isn't a sound. It's high and low and everywhere all at once why can no one else hear it? There are a dozen people in this shop, and they can't see him. I've got to be fucking mad right? They can't hear it.

Fuck it. Need to keep moving.

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