Live long and prosper

Overrated children. It’s all just a game to them, it’s all about the way the journey feels rather than what the journey represents, what it contributes to them, to society. Emotions slip through sieves of repression, get mixed with gruel and salt and thrown back in my mouth... No wonder I don’t understand why they taste differently, or why my eyes burn. I have never felt fear grip me so strongly in my entire life.

Deprived of so much life it all seemed, as the cold forest surrounding grew into the warm light of day. Things began to warp and distort, people’s faces became beautiful to ugly, ugly to drunk. Stupid things were done. Slowly falling into the blackness that was consuming eyes, deciphering the ramblings of a man who would cut half the important words and letters out of sentences, forgetting thoughts before even speaking them... That was not comfortably numb. I was not comfortable.

Complete loss of all sense of control, slipping hands, slipping mind... What was I to do with this confused shell? I myself was barely holding it together... Haunting scenes of Fear and Loathing streamed through my mind as I saw his mental state worsen and worsen. It wasn’t going to be good. Accidental death is not a very nice girl, and I could see him dying, I could see me dying.

Keep it together, breathe in, breathe out. Reassure, reassure. Talk it all out... Nothing is going wrong, everything is fine. Was it all fine? Lying there, breathing heavy... I didn’t want to feel or understand, but what else was I to do?
I walked out into the cold, no shoes. This was going to be either easy or hard.
Tears pushed back with anger and prayer... Walking, talking, rambling nothings to myself, destination comfort zone... I just needed to see his face again, but the walk from first objective to the next would be long, would be hard. Walking, still talking; at first on the phone so that none who saw me would question my actions... Rambling now, without the phone, growing more paranoid at the cars parked in drive ways, on roads... Were there faces inside staring at me?
“Go away angry pillow men, I’m not scared”...

Coming to grips with what had just happened, whether I could have died, whether he could have died; a more common yet less tragic ‘Romeo and Juliet’, none of it made any sense to me. Cold feet... Walking over broken glass; was I bleeding? I felt a certain karmic payback if they were so I was determined to do nothing.
Singing old songs of lost feelings to pass the time, an hour becoming the longest hour of my life. People, looking so strange, coming at me from all sides.
I held my shit together- if I didn’t, things could have gone alot worse than they did. I got home and had 5 minutes to tell him everything before we would have more company... I wanted to cry, to roll up into a ball and be rocked to sleep, to be the one that needed comforting; like he does so well... I’m glad I could be strong enough to remain in a state where I wasn’t afraid anymore.

Friendship was realised this weekend; although I also realised that sometimes friends need to encourage sensibility more than a good time...
Dont dose to high when the supply is new. Sleep. Eat well...
Remember: No one expects for it to be too much... People don’t intend on flipping out.

Live long and prosper, and put our minds at ease.