an introductory framework

and the cursor just keeps blinking up at me, as if mocking me or challenging me to write longer, more impactful sentences to slam preceding lines. i don't want challenges; i'm really, drained.

scanner darkley is the reason i know that everything is going to be okay, eventually. its all a bad dream and you're only stuck in your own mind. a whirlpool of baseless concepts and sanity defying thoughts.

you can see the weight of my world in the eyes. or maybe its, you can see the weight of the world in my eyes. actually, it makes no difference. in my world, its the eyes. in their world, its my eyes. its so easy to just look past and through me now because i've been down low for way too long or so says james morrison from that ipod in the distance.

once upon a time, there lived a rabbit. this rabbit was a happy rabbit, singing, hopping and collecting carrots (to make into juice) all day long. every morning, this rabbit would wake up at 7am and prepare for the day ahead. pouring herself 250ml of milk and 25gm of kellogg's corn flakes into her happy doreamon "pseudo bowl" cup. tucking happily into her.... *FLASH*

into her..

into her..

erm. the happy rabbit does not know how to carry on anymore. she's really unsure of what she should do. really doesn't know how to carry on.

anyhow, she does.

so, the not that happy rabbit tucks not so happily into her bowl of mushy corn flakes. she sees the world through these teary eyes and everything blurs and melts into oblivion. suddenly the world she sees isn't one she'd been in previously... it's the one she'd been running away from. she tries to blink it all away but its no use. the images stay the same and she knows she's trapped.

forever.

FLASH.FLASH.FLASH.

sigh, its just one of those days when i have to resort to telling my story from a third person's story point of view. this time, even surpassing the status of human and passing off as a happy rabbit. Its so hard to tell people how much this problem troubles me without coming off insane and needy.

i know that i've been unpleasant of late but i guess lois will always be plagued by this. she regrets and resents how curious she's always been about the sub conscious and un conscious. the state of rest and latent hyptnotism. sleep. she should never have played with the idea of the self induction of nightmares and the ability to remember her dreams and nightmares. they, haunt.

she regrets it and wished she'd never dabbled with such art.

its really not a case of self piteous whims, though she really wished it was. it would be easier to solve that way. now lois isn't too sure what was reality to begin with.

lois, is regrettedbly. afraid.