I honestly think someone should call this the ill chapters of my life. Seriously, the whole thing is f-ed up, messed up and torn. My life? Who am I kidding. This is someone else living this life. I am just an autopilot. Do I think I’ll be saved? This is hell I am living hell. Devoid of a normal existence. I wish I was devoid of thought with my autopilot. Instead I bear the pain of thought. Sitting alone thinking. Having past thoughts of destruction, or present? Which is it? I don’t know anymore. I don’t mean destruction of property either. Destruction of my existence. No I am here or I wouldn’t be typing this. Just because the thought is there… doesn’t mean it happens. When I was gone, down there, thoughts of destruction were there. The ocean was calling me. The moon. The destruction was calling me. Streets were calling me at 3 AM. A gun had called me at 4 but it was not to happen. Sure someone was there, my soon to be husband might have hated him but he saved my life on a few occasions. Nor would I ever tell him of the horrors that lived in my head while I was there. What the hell was I doing there? What the hell was I doing with my life ? I don’t know. What am I doing with my life? I don’t know. I blog … that’s it. Just a place. Somewhere or is it anywhere? To get my thoughts out and who the hell knows. Dammit why can’t I be devoid of thought, devoid of all and live in trance, a trance… Who am I living for? Not myself but someone else.