he wasn't there again today.

diary: section 4, page one.
talk with psychiatrist. walking down the hall at the office.

"all this walking and no talking. you know i'm just trying to help you. but i don't honestly understand about this whole alternate world of yours that no one ever quite sees. what is it all about?
how do you live there, and who do you see?
how can you go so easily?
it's so far away, yet right in your mind.
how can you block out your own kind?"
first of all, doc i think speaking to me in rhymes wont cure my troubled mind. and secondly, you are not my kind. trust me. if you knew more, you'd understand. but obviously, you don't understand me. that is clear to both of us.
"yeah i know you're trying to help. obviously, you thought you weren't getting through to me with regular talking, so you thought you'd try some dr. seuss? you're no dr.seuss, trust me."
i love giving these idiots attitude. it works. they almost become as insane as me.

i love 2 read. a friggin bookworm.