Sphere? Triangle?

I keep trying to deny it, but I can't avoid the truth any longer.

My body has become... shapes.

That's the only word I can think to describe the unnatural weirdness that is encasing me.

I'm going to water fast for at least 3 days.

I will not break down and eat.

That is all.

Absence of God

	Rilo Kiley - The Absence Of God
	Found at skreemr.org

And I'm not my body or how I choose to destroy it.

I don't feel like talking about my failures or my next plan. Sadly, I haven't neglected this safe little space because I've been doing amazing things, or even because I have been spiraling into a horrible decent toward madness, but rather because my life has come to resemble a stagnant pool in a dip of grassy lawn after heavy rain. Unwanted but not particularly noticed. Just sitting there hatching mosquito eggs.

Thursday morning I'm supposed to go to Paris. I am the only 20-something in the world who apparently doesn't give a shit about doing it. Can't I just stay in my room? Better yet, can't someone please please fucking get me some diazapam so I can just dream my life away?

I've decided, last night actually as I was attempting to fall asleep, that I know what the afterlife must be. It's so simple, I don't know why I hadn't previously figured it all out. One of my biggest fears is eternity. Seriously, either way you believe, it's fucking horrible. An eternal Heaven? I distinctly remember, as a child, telling my mother that it must get very boring, and what do you do after the novelty wears off? On the other hand, just try to imagine nothingness. Sure, if you prescribe to that understanding of the world, you die and then you don't exist, but it's still FOREVER. No matter what you believe. There was time before us and time after, and even after time ends there will be an eternity of timelessness.

Time is fucking fucking scary.

That can't be the afterlife. Or the non-afterlife. It must be some kind of dream state forever. You die, you no longer exist as you know it, and then you just dream. And it's a perceived reality. And perhaps there's multiple dreams over this eternity (creating a false sense of beginning, middle, and end) like when you have several distinct dreams in one night. Fade to black. Curtain rises to reveal a new scene. If you aren't a vivid dreamer, I don't think you can quite comprehend how amazing a lifetime of dreaming would be. For instance, if I found out I was going to be in a coma for 30 years, but I'd dream the whole time, I think I'd be OK with it. But then again, I'm convinced I'd be just fine in solitary confinement because could I just retreat into my head and entertain myself for years. Staring at the wall. Paradise.

So that's basically an option that works for believers and non-believers alike. You want to believe your dreams are Heaven? Go right ahead. You want to believe Heaven is actually a fanciful creation of your cerebral cortex? Ok, I'd buy it.

This gives me something to look forward to since eternity is just too fucking much to handle. I can't emphasize the fucking aspect enough.

To get back to my original thought, I don't want to go to Paris. And I'm tired of people trying to reassure me and say, "Oh you know, I'm sure you'll have fun! Just don't worry now and go anyway. You'll be glad you did!" Yeah well screw you. Obviously, you aren't very good at being able to ruin your own prospective enjoyment based on irrational concerns. If I don't want to go, then I don't want to go and that should be the end of it.

Maybe I'm just broken and the part of my heart that's supposed to melt over baguettes and poodles and the Eiffel Tower and brie is just not there. I must have a hole in that spot. I knew there had to be at least one somewhere.

And I'm not my perspective or the lies I tell you every time.

P.S. Thank you Flushed and Ophelia. I'm sorry I haven't responded Pasco. I've started to about 27 times. That last bit applies to almost every aspect of my life, including here.